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I bought a little cottage on a mountain,
Miles away from any known town, when
I finally left the electronic shackles of
The modern workplace.
I took this very moment, in deep Winter,
To write to some friends, in a moment
Of Uncharacteristic melancholia, uncharacteristic
Because we were hardly ever in contact
Over the decades. I felt as though
I were writing to imaginary people I had
Created in my mind. I think it was the rememberance
Of youth that brought me back here, back
To this mindstate, the eternal longing to return
To naivity, the living in the now that we
Somehow lost over the years.

Back then the now wasn't visible,
But now we read books to learn how to get back there...
 
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the world spins violently upon itself, as if there was some great hurry, as if there was some great thing to either win or lose.
 
I wonder how far down the rabbit hole I can go
Before the beauties of the imagination trap me in their ether forever
As I do enjoy poking my head down there;
Perhaps more days than I should;
The normal world does seem boring in comparison.

Atleast, I'm still not sure.
Certain theories of the imagined world and it's wonders take form in reality before me;
I tend to mostly imagine and believe that I'm right about them.

But I know i am sane because i can can never be completely sure.
 
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Good Boy

The sky opens, majestic
God reaches down and pats me on the head
I grin, stupidly, and wag my tail, expecting a treat

When he leaves me, empty handed
I attempt to follow him, by land
Barking barking barking
 
Postcards from JizzFest

(My)
Spine snaps in 7 places
Hands, a poor substitute 4 meth mouth

(I)
Forget how 2 suck my dick
Cripple writhing pleasure
Mix pain masturbation

I Forget How 2 suck U

U Don't Substitute Me

I Don't Blame U
 
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Postcards from JazzFest

(I)
Forget how 2 play the piano
Murder melodies for the deaf
Invent anti-music

(My)
Fingers crack like biscuits
Old hands, a poor substitute 4 young

I Forget How 2 Play C

C comes after B

Before U
 
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Bad Boy

cloudfloor trapdoor
for divineintervention
not interventiondivine

themortalstench
Friedrich barkin "die" for animalkind
us bitinfingers that sculptedteeth us from clay

refusin to lick balls
fuckinangels, smitinsinners
climbin walls
 
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ForEverAfter said:
Good Boy

The sky opens, majestic
God reaches down and pats me on the head
I grin, stupidly, and wag my tail, expecting a treat

When he leaves me, empty handed
I attempt to follow him, by land
Barking barking barking
Click to expand...

lol, nice

Foreverafter writes so much prolific shit and its making me jelly.

The end.
Click to expand...

I concur
 
You put the beer in the coconut and genocide the bird you put the beer in the coconut and piss on flanders lawn you put the thread in the coconunut and fuck the u s a
 
symbiosis

we dwell in each other - entangled like dust bunnies - you fell for me - like a zeppelin full of anchored rocks - I love your crooked smile - every imperfect tooth - you love my denial - and how it swallows truth
 
dance with opposition

[ my heart ]it sits. Vacant[/ my heart ]
[ your hair ]it lashes softly[/ your hair ]
[ we ]tease each other for fear[/ we ]
[ I ]love you but cannot declare[/ I ]
[ shy ]like the dry river bank[/ shy ]
we [ drift ] from tango
to ping-pong
we [/ drift ]
 
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Amy
your skin demands attention
ankles balanced on knees
lips glittered with gloss
Amy
your voice massages my soul
composed of the melancholic
delivered by joy
Amy
shy like the dry river bank
your hair, lashing softly
my love is yours
Amy
 
my exotic doll
my es-ki-mo

I knew you before you knew yourself
diggin holes through backyard snow
To-ron-to, Tor-on-to

we hitch'd a ride, by cultured eyes
before, well before we could drive
Tok-y-o, Tok-y-o

my es-ki-mo
my eskimo
 
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lighthouse

forever after, never
say never, forever
write, your heart
blood, my ink, I
drink, your blood
intoxicated, dreams
intertwined, forever
 
inject your smile into my heart
inhale your lips into my lungs
wrap your tongue around
my tongue bitter-sweet
chemical love

insulfate your nipples
huff your inner thigh
wrap my thin arms
around your waist
my bitter-sweet

I dream of you
 
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big mouth, I opened my big mouth
my mouth is big and I open it
this is true: look it's true!
follow me, adjust to my will
because I can't stand the truth alone,
nor could anyone else for that matter,
Jesus almost certainly wanted to die
on the cross that day
the martyrs instigate violence
passive-aggressively to encourage
suicide, they know they can't do it themselves

because they know too much

and it means nothing here
 
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