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untitledAfter church on sundays we go gofling, we ride, play nine, don't keep score and this is us.untitled
A culture that loves to kiss because we like how it looks, not feels.
Surely, we will brush pumus from our teeth today once we have woke from the wettest of
dreams, mouths open wider than arms on either end, waving wildly to newborn flowers that grow too tall for
their own flimsy stems.
Surely, the smoke that we create and consume can be rinsed from the sky by faucets we know and love.
And once the canvas of countrie
by ~hightides
polar us.it's snowing againpolar us.
& rich in the unplumbed metro where rubber's
glued to walls lit with florescent flickers choked by cascade perspective there's
a feline famine screaming to be seen here, standing stationary
among left off carry-on &
one speeding ticket later it still seems like i pressed jesus through my lips with
a hot iron. took a baby step over &
out of maternity, fraternity brothers watching like bookies, hanging up
with weatherproof pay. certainly
uncertain verdicts were tossed to
my refrigerator door left open
from midnigh
by ~hightides
honest diligenceSpring sundays to septemberhonest diligence
they would be here on the inside
of their chain-link sanctuary,
choking and poking like normal.
I looked on like the skaters
in trailer-park nosebleeds,
waiting for souvenirs as volunteers lashed out for fifty-fifty tickets.
It was smoke time and stretch time when
the watery sunshine
had faded and bright lights
were shadowed by
swarming mosquitos who drowned the hum of halogen.
Below those lights were
little shavers with red sox hats
and wiffle-ball bats
by ~hightides
Favourites
metol lemunadeshe speeks septembur wen it is joon leeving the room with a stinkmetol lemunade
duz she no the alfibet? wen all i do is drink metol leminaid
that cleres my throte but herts my throte wy is luv so paneful a discraze
a shaim blaim paim
ouch
luv hurts like metol leminaide
wen spring cumbs ask the operater for a foan number that is lokt forevr in tha maitrickce
hullo?
you got any metol leminaid? ime thirsdee for sumthing strong
so rong my song &
by ~norman2
the gamblerthat poor blind man with syphilisthe gambler
has been coughing all night,
and like the planes
that shake the tin i have no way
to stop it.
he was once
young, a catholic.
a legend to outlive 'em. was followed to the classics club, sandwiched in B district.
he wore the swankiest k-9 dance. swung his hips
in irish locomotion.
his one blue eye now shot
and sudden. here is the handsome
man who woos the girls behind west broadview lanes.
"hey old man!" painted
hyenas laugh "your cough
is yello
by ~xtape
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- Favourite band or musician: third eye blind
- Favourite poet or writer: jerome david salinger
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"I wanted only to live in accordance with the promptings of my deepest self. Why was this so hard?"
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hello, Philo.
# is Male
# is a deviant since Dec 22, 2003, 7:22 PM
# has 666 pageviews
# is located in United States
# last visited 9w 4d 4h 21m 6s ago
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show me.
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hello, Philo.
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