I’ll be your
from crashing you
against the shores
I’ll find you
Your thigh gap only has to be big enough to get his head between them.
Notes from the Underground
Stray rounds pierce our collective soul:
patronage or kinship,
I find friends ostracized as well.
Outside standard circles, always;
even in the underground.
Hungry looking in, haughty gazing out.
“Just go for it,” spectres say…
we have only single sight,
understanding nothing of our anguish
Notes from the Underground II
It was conspicuous to poison with pills,
so into the food went hormones and chemical strings.
Immeasurable joy always:
willfully pass by the burnt out husks of Standard Oil stations,
and corrupted wetlands.
It felt wonderful to be always afloat.
Sometimes I like
to measure my
happiness based on
the lustful looks
I receive from