and tangerine paint can do
for a plain dorm room.
My roommate's eyes stay open when she sleeps.


Car WashCar washCar Wash
Unpack the weeks of sand, bikini bottoms, sunscreen stains and the condom wrappers where they fell in the one private mess I own Im in a mood for picking fights. The heat slips past abandoned planner pages and the dampened itch, the old dog comfortable as dust-mat roads, yellow and lazy, wakes, flea bit hungry and overfull for sleep. I snap at leaves as the poisoned haze lifts, pulling at our antagonisms, our wilted flowers by dried stalks in pinched fingertips of our ascending apathies strung to the quickening heavens. I mistrust the re


"Taste me," said the morningI think I might go write some poetry, but the poems in me now are inarticulate - round feelings that swell with the ripe wholeness of globed fruits, the dew still glowing on their waxy rinds and sunlight dancing noiselessly around them deliberately picking up its feet, until it has flickered its way from one upended palm into the other and I have juggled the day, like a prayer barely contained in its own skin, thin, stretched, and begging to be peeled."Taste me," said the morning
anybody home?
Meow!
--
dark pictures, thrones, the stones that pilgrims kiss,
poems that take a thousand years to die;
but ape the immortality of this
red label on a little butterfly.
-vladimir nabokov
--
I think global warming is...
How deviant are you?
--
I think global warming is...
How deviant are you?
--
~boundlessly, breathlessly alive
--
I think global warming is...
How deviant are you?
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