symbolism of the pink-head

the magnolia freemasons. baking heads. faking identities. of the transvestite super-human. the travesty of the magnificent. drunk and horny. you twiddle your blood thumb. smoking gin. disintegrating into the music of the behemoth. hands and palms. open to grasp the lace of the genital hide-and-seek. the gay husband cries to the whores of crystalline sandcastles. the buzz of the violin nipples whirring and caressing silk doves of the narrow catechism mythology. your shaven hair fringe buzzing and swirling in the applications of the promiscuous. like prometheus? oh god of greeks and the psychedelic surrealists. pause and scream and howl. in the orgasm of the inebriate methadone pearl-jiggle. this cipher of the spread. the thighs of fig. the symbolism of the pink-head. you hold the head of those paper lions. a thermodynamic. a melancholy role-play of the sexual. the flower duet of the lakme. you opera film. you nurse the wax paper canvas of the falling dali-scape. the picasso surreal. the vanishing vapor of the real and unreal and co-real. the corporal and the carnal of the matrimony, you desire. man on sleep. woman on drugs. the para-film cross-boundary chasm. sing and hold and slip and slide. undress like the passion fairy principle. un-role and disappear on the identity trove of your fakeness, baldness and nuisance of careening emotionality. rip out the slave-dove cover hue. pitch and hit and slam and drill into your brain-cover emotion. what the hell did you do again?  

cherry top sassy

the surreal of the cherry top. hand on waist. bedazzled eyes. we slept on stone. throwing willow whips and catholic rouge. the snarl of the sinus lip. my tongue lash and the psychedelic. slam and break in violent sex. and against the door. erotic lay. we push and push and push and smile. all normal tomorrow.

nine

 

one. two. three. four scream. five squat. six fuck. seven ouch. eight wait. nine win. 

fotografo muel.

thanksgiving

at the grey lady. we sing fractal hymns. formulas and voice. snap the tips of the cold fondling finger tops. a delicate smell of the festive forks. a clink of glass. and melting wood. a beating mob. of cheer and quip. let it foam and flush. and swell and squeeze. the voice of thanks. the prize of grace. the still of leaves of thunder brains. white with paint. mold with fear of mourning sands. rockaways, the penumbra colts. the jagged frills of the cold, elegant decorative. tonight we ring. the bells and tolls of highway frocks. of gods and sheep. of strings and pus. disguise your love. hide your lights. the neon eyes. and carpet stamps. mulberry plum. let me hold. your hands in shame and love.

caress the moon. tonight, like he. and him and his. sweet saturday love. spread your eyes. in a momentous pinnacle of the whirring aphrodisiacs. the lesbian herd. instrumental to the realization of a mosaic identity. a pattern work of half truths. a floating base of multiple me. of multiple i. you will never know. the cigarette smoke. why does it twirl. where does it mix. and match and vibe. vaporize in space. hovering in leaps. and snaking in toes. the lips outstretched. incipience of a category class of the vapored and the vapid and the intrepid love-lace lullaby. section-less identity. why do you hyperbolize the strength of your character? to impress. who? the world of corn. the world of ears. the world of this classist look-ist tentacle auditorium of judgmental beauties. the beasts, they suffer. they repent. evading the interconversion. let us be mannered. let us be the conservative ideal of the morality wisdom etiquette. let us display the ethicality of the text book prints. for our conscience -the laughable body-mongers. the pristine humanity of interaction. yet, the beastiality you hide. bores fangs on the simplicity of your lattice-lust. to come back and say, this is my identity alone. is a faux interlude of your inner eccentricities, complexities and desires. you are not the one and only by-product of a sinewy character building. i certainly am not. never will be. the subtracted product of condition and situation. to present a trope. you say, you lie. lie, yes. you may not know the truth of my core. this is my collage-identity. this is what we call the tailor-made. the tailor, the self. making makes and goods. the hypotenuse parallel of identity songs. to one, you are the pauper dust. the proverbial failed. the spice of doom. every lie. every death. identity kill. stabbed with the spade of matador kings. the truck fantasies of a dying mechanic political hegemony. one word string song. you meaningless mindless spurt fountain devil! you flirt with lies. and the ninety seven cloud stains of gibberish.

mulberry plum. i give thanks to the pontificate of the heart-wringing emotionality of the cold, dying spectrum. take a breath. hold your smile. unfurl your soul and fly. 

kodaline and the songbirds

kodaline. let us sing. a song of joy. a song of grace. passion fruit and violent gin. and press your lips. your finger tips. and cherry tops. broken frocks of plastic slime. your spots and dots. string in song. and fashion whores. barbarians of the winter love. they fuck and scream. and howl in song. and milk their eyes. and wax their shells. of fashion moons. and lunar tunes. fall and spring. the apple rings and naked ferns. aroused in chills. wake from dreams. sweet kodaline. let us sing. a song of joy and love.

you hide behind the lace of strings. your curtains curl. your blinds a-fold. your bushel rice. and drops of gore. it's time tonight. this month of love. the cancer fix. the story sings. one by one. the glow of skin. wrapped in wine. and off the shrine. your naked art. astonished and forlorn. you bite your skin. and bleed in joy. the hungry tides of november bliss. the sweat of smoke. gallop past your cheerful face. you man of filth. you finger pube. disdainful jazz. your famished art and hopeless kiss. they mean nothing. they speak nothing. a paper wrap, on your lips. you catch your breath. you hold your tongue. and pull the life off this caricature wall. if you were true. to displace my grace. to spit my face and say...anomalous brown. get off my frown. i cry in pain. i would slide my self in acid cans. in sunday fumes. and chicory lint. and shard my soul. orange organics. precipitate on a refusal of our audacity. of our poverty of minds. because, you do not tire. because you cannot decide. because you cannot please the sonnets of your own. frigid soul. because you play this game of blame. with pride and lust. and this staged hankering of attend. always, to your needs. to your whims. to this dielectric chiffon-mask of our triangulated incongruity.

kodaline. sweet love of mine. let us draw the line. 

the gertrude songs

dear gertrude and olive-stein. we met that night. at carnegie rains. in the midst of a cold manhattan evening. your lashes pale. you reverie of chariots. a wheel mockery of music. a trollop of sorts. your letter of dimes. you whispered to the moon. honeydew saccharin. take your tears. roll the edge. and bead a tale. of pepper-dust and sand. of the frivolity of play. the theater elite. the flautist behind. caressing your womb. the sweet vagina smell. you dizzy in the midst of the november rhymes. the poetic musk. the winds of death. you smile as you walk. and protrude your breasts. sequined and hemmed. you wink at me. and exit.

in my mind. i sang to you. the lullaby tales of the greek civil. the dome of trills. the whisk. and lust. and a poly-maze of the hebrews. on walls and walls of berliner tales. the mustard days of reign and reich. the gold of blood. tragedy of the beast. the identity wheel. a race of sorts. climb the shrine. of a fake divine. of a decorative. of a fake nurture of promise. the semblance of a blind sonnet. an empty verse that rhymes to cry. that swells and lisps. a saturday joy. a virgin whore. a spectacle of the polyandry foreplay. the gamut of the insensitive. i rage. and cringe. the gertrude songs. on parapet skins. who milked your soul? and fanned your lust? feral and coarse. with this balm of self-delusion. you sing to say. let us forget? the history of days? this self-deceit. this lie to please. to please the who? you sate your lies. and bite your lips. pretend the category of sensibility. but i have known your truths.

check

i follow humans of new york. this photograph is dear to me.

story.

"Are you volunteering today?"
"Something like that. I'm the Chief of Personnel for the New York Fire Department. I'm making sure everyone is where they need to be, and has what they need."
"Oh wow. Do you mind if I take your photo?"
"Sure. Can my son be in the picture?"

r

in your turtle shells. and monet purse. etiquette brows are flooded with the finger-play of sunshine. the fall that fell. smoking cigarettes and sweat. and a nation proud. of our queer and lost. of our nipples and rust. of the moon flake curtains. of the wind of the blacks. and catechism blues. the jazz of coal. the white of slate. the new republic crawls. the gods asleep. the demons dead. our times of cheer. at the empire state. we celebrated love. the love of blues. and carousel cheers. dancing hums of the fragile birds. flightless yet. senseless yet. loveless yet. they were barred from loving men. they were scarred for nipples love. for the breast caress. the narrowed, oppressed and the vagina squeal. it is one. the salt and flake. the memory lanes of governance. fold the rug. in half. quarter. eigth. and more. going lilt. put away the sound of steel. the revolver bruise. the right to die. the right to froth. the right to choose between. god and soul. soul and love. love and abomination of a power-hungry aphrodisiac. this taint of man and melody of peace. unite in an epithet of the accepted. the acceptance. of preach and teach. the children of tomorrow. their mothers milk and fathers pen. the right to destroy. despite your god. despite your soul. despite the passion of the one-only. the in and out of blood and life, is mine and mine alone. 

i do.

let us say. in cold mountain blues. you wed your child. your spouse of sorts. your effigy of love. of lust. of soul trilling whirls. and the swirl of pink. and blue wind dolls. hollow in red. this pedophile, you scream. this child is love. your coeval muse. you call it child. your babe you say? the fur of maze. waffling songs. over and over. a chandelier yolk. this is sport and love. i do. we do. we did. it all.

but. in the the theater space of life and death. the ocean garb and navy blue. your fastened mask. your netted socks. so disposable. the sterility. this barrier wall of now and there. this is clean. do not touch. we sprayed and fumed. this room of blood. this cave of steel. we painted walls. and built a smile. panic not. you mother-child. hold your breath. think of god. sing a hymn. or paint a boat. in your mind of minds. sleep your pain. this theater of dimes begin.

the actors stand. outside the door of this mannequin pool. a stream of pines. oh water drop blues. come cleanse my hand. wash away the touch of lust. the touch of sex from saturday rhymes. and scrub your palm away. and scrub and scrub. this co-evolution of garb. the nomenclature. scrubs. before you scrubbed your myth and jazz. you took it off. the band of love. displaced the sweat. displaced the tension. of the sacrament of love. the visualization of the matrimony paradox. you took it off. and placed in the midst of pockets. clinging to your chest. your nipple roars. you touched in silence. i do. you say. and take a pause. i take this ring. off my soul. to save a death. this is norm. this is convention. this is the forcefulness of the blue-code professional. did you guilt? did you cry? did you swing amidst the century brides and say. you let me go. come back to me. off and on. and off and on. a cycle of spells. i do. i don't. i do. i don't. a pattern fork pitch. the band of sounds. that played that night. are mute.

take the band. and hold your voice. what marriage means? what social sweat has led to bleed. to believe. to pry an institution of sights and sounds. and lights and cheer. save this day. we declare the faith. built on what foundation? when did you learn to trust. or earn belief. when did you carve a destiny. for you and me. or speak the officialdom of the expected grace. when did you decide, this was time. to bend your knees. to propose to man or lady-love knits? holding together. this cohesive soul of band on band. when and why. a building brew. peril of love. saccharin man. your face of bass. the hippie flair of your inner poet. smells composition on a careening sonnet. survive. survive. surreal blooms. a network void of fading emotionality. you shy and fear. the dangerous revolt. of rejection and smiles. of the dubiosness of a power fling. the urgency of a wandering love. i do not have. we didn't have. we never knew. we never told. we set aside the crease of cold. we never spoke of the tenderness. ashamed. unprepared. you didn't know, when to say. this is time. this is love. what if i didn't feel. i don't. i do. i don't.i do. i don't.