I Love This Place

Hello? Hello? Radio tower? Lisbon plane taking off in ten minutes, east runway. Thank you. In Memorium: Memorial Day; getaway day, must have meant. Long distance polystyrene, beads. Five, later, six hundred miles of stupefaction. That great gouging sucking sound, ah the "season" season. Shaving the recently pasture and shading your eyes from fishbelly pegs and the sight of black socks with sandals. The fertilizered green grassy smell and attendant noise pollution sentence: Six months/Two trimesters in the heat, with an alien inside you, of your very own. Well, you and your test pilot, yo.

Human Solder

It's important for people to understand that this program is so sensitive and so important, that if information gets out how we do it, or how we operate, it will help the enemy. Blackstone rising, refiners slumber, and make even more, money; like that knotty? I, hate, myself, know that going in; they say you can't (aren't supposed to, yeah yeah) but what do they know? I know they do for themselves. You too. But not as often or as much as they like standing in front of mirrors, lost in admiration; so, you like making funny faces. Always bragging about what you would do if you weren't on tilt, yapping on the way to doppler fade, horizon dot, gone. Licking at imaginary stitches to sure future wounds. An athiestas prayer for you all. Me and mine locked, watching for and awed at how far arms can stretch.

15% Human 85% Baa

Depressed or just sad? Can you twain the difference? Tell me what twain meant? Eens are more like eeks, babies and drunks know those languages, and you can get back there, will so be back there, one way or another or on the way out; be ye dry or octogenarian or even wider parameters. Zip bang bye, and in other not news, I still love you. For the way you sign it, your moonswept eyes, in spite of me, wrapped around tight, for babies, hope; yes even that. It just means two.

One Week Later

Wall of noise? No, wall of noodles. Nor'eastern greeting. Backwards like the southern cross dots, love the scrub. I miss Benny; oh Condi, you can't touch Vlad, and Wolfy is done done. The FDA needs more power like the executive branch does. If by power, you mean, the power to pimp. Can you hear the crickets? Nobody's listening. No more ears; grids of wildflowers along the highways, wild or not?

One For The Two

Not for May or Mayday x 3, but her who endures. And isn't that what it's all about, constancy craved, or shunned, and all the illion possible combinations, good bad and/or so help me god, because like cool it's the word that means nothing most, the fuck, no they usually go um or uh, but I say: Here I am. I'm right here. Repeating myself, like we do, the knot in my belly kin to forever. How do you get back to sweet when it's been eroded? I know what Gray's says, but I feel like the picture sometimes, inside. What a hideous word. I prefer any Native alternative, as a name. Hard pregnancies mean genius babies, believe that deli meat. Nobody does me better. Ever.

Wally Schirra Triple

Whass up beeches? Clickityclickbye back at ya; chaff deployed oops, they packed it with fabric. We look like monkeys when we go ook, I mean speak; when you've deployed the mute; I call it the monk me. Like da coonaxs do. Ya like Swedish stereotype X3Tightpantsbuffboi or a model TR9Stackedbikini. Get in the box. Grind me like rasp. No there were no scissors there, and the houses are of mud. You say it like a curse, but it's just earth; taste the loam. Sweet geophagist. Not like that. My babies bottles are glass and antique, after the titties; avant the dirt. How do you say "mudpies" in Français?