Wednesday, July 12, 2017

these are the spirits who're dirty for me, "we've

been places you'll never go. we've been everywhere," (have their periods without getting it all over the seat) ,"and what's your number?"

popular girls in the hallway who still count
their sex partners with their fingers.

"who do you think you're allowed to touch? not that i wanna imagine you like that," police raid said. this is who adversary has changed into.

i point at the dead guy who used to hurt me pretty bad, with and without consent. "him?! but he's old enough to be your dad! ew!"

but that's part of the point.

revisiting means i've never let go of
anything, anything ever,
before. skull of absorption.

guess this means either artificiality has redeeming factors or

it doesn't exist
and i've just been mean.

let me say this just today:
i don't *mean* to choose this, you shitty asshole.

i know you're interviewing me, over there- i can
see the whites of your eyes. so, i repeat:
i
don't *mean* to
choose this, shitty shithead,

so you don't need to tell me to go die or eat shit over it.

cock piss shit fuck dick.

you disappoint me.
i want my darling daughter back.
i could die if i wanna is how serious
my illness is. you can't picture it/ you're just
jealous is all,

jealllllooouuuuuus.
it has nothing to do with me not doing my
homework. just

that i didn't get it;
i don't know how to read and instructions are stupid,
ugly bozo.

i only think in
people

since i think only in people,
let me introduce you to them.

here are the people that i am a matriarch of:
01. correct answer: b
02. correct answer: a
03. correct answer: d, all of the above
04. only correct answers;

do you see? see? look. open your mind. look.

if you knew that i can't look at things 'kuz
it hurts,
you'd recognize me as resilient/ wonder why
i'm not out-and-out violent.

look
stupid
look
look
look
look
look
you're not looking really like you claim to be doing
look
look
look
look
look
look

Friday, July 7, 2017

bad people show.

no. no more poems, performance art where i make
teddy bears out to be the bad guys,

when i'm too old for that shit. i think
it's you that has something

to do with this, at the same time
i believe it to be everything to do

with
me. you're just as selfish, only difference

being you don't think that about you
and you only believe in your perceptions of me

which you've got all backwards. it seems

contradictory
that these two things happen
at the same time, but they're actually just

two different ways to look at the same thing.

no. if i was president, here's
what i'd abolish, for you: no more

money. no more time. no more bitching and
moaning. no more

talking about donald trump- i miss george bush.

no more internet addiction

and the no-list, for myself:
no more bra, no more underwear, no more makeup

no more white skin it makes me a tourist,
no more meat, no more sugar

no more waste except
the disappearing kind.

all about integration.

the ferryman.

message me on facebook, lie to, or, come on
all the twelve year old girls

and only twelve year old girls. so becoming
in their fear of drawing attention
to inadequacies. me and all my friends

supress our sneezes
before
i guide them into your man cave

where it is that we start talking about only boys
for the rest of our lives

until you cheat on me with them. (then is when we
become women.) delivering yourself from

not feeling so good each time. short term based.

message them, "haha *emphatic lol* stacey, that was a really funny joke you just said," in that way
that equalizes how
the responses of twelve year old boys would be.

accidentally say
my name, which is gonna be

BBW one day, when i'm a

star

yeah. i've only been trying to amuse you
with my delightfulness for fucking ever.

hope you know BBW is who i'll be

so that you'll look back at my developing chest as your "rosebud".

my name is something like

a ghost's that is inside of me, which
is actually a dark place of psyche's

that i do not give to myself as me. has, and will always be, part of
what's built on indian burial grounds.

bad habits.

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

unimpressed expression.

expectations

will never be met. the originator of addiction.

i am unsatisfied
until
reaction: personifying impression of
quick burst of
outside resource

until taste is built up
which happens quickly
and then i wait
dazed
thinking about sex
until captivated
for half a second
again.

i have been noble. kiss my faith.

survey says.

"but why was sitting, enjoying nature, or something like it, better than creating some representation of it? i never thought that way about it in the past, when it was a disposable camera, or an easel and watercolors.
"

Monday, July 3, 2017

new life.

remember a movie, rated R,  in which
a girl was chopped in half
by a door that closed on her

and her memorial service
her memory was honored at? shattered

people are noble for their victimizations, it said.
element of true love
resonated through that. (gave purpose).
an electric
snake of sorts.

we glue to
that which speaks strongly about us, for us

as we ourselves are cheapened
by jail
which cannot be penetrated.

first woman lives there, carrying
out duty
with the juice of pomegranate
down the front of her shirt
which she had dribbled
. feeling fat.
"i've done it,"
calling upward, "there's nothing left
to want from me.
now release my family."

i'm not going to the woods. i've abandoned the woods. the pressure
to refuse abandonment
has gotten to me.
i will have a fresh start
after this.
this is how born agains are born.

cleansed.
i'm doing this for my brothers and sisters.

alienation.

i'm waiting for, "how are you?"
to be asked
in a way

that'll release, from
buried memory, any
of my prepared answers
images
representing truth
to be paintings

by dead masters, talented people

for once
i want this to be
how it goes

because
it's important
to get the point across
that i admire thinking
that i think
and i take it seriously, i do it
quickly, deeply

this is how i survived
in jungles, deserted islands, during
prior states of consciousness.

how bad
i wanna tell you, anyone,
that i'm in jail today, and, in order

to be rescued, let's stay true
to the heart of the book: it needs to be solved.

this way
that i was taught
is the way it needs to be approached

by books movies tv, whom
i refuse to reproach.

i'm waiting

for the timing
to open like this
to be
just
right

one effect i'm going for
is day-to-day concerns
ceasing to cast relevance

so that boundaries
will turn out
to
have always been a curse
one that we break

when i am fetal inside your body, you,
fetal inside mine. that's when
we say,

nature is fine
without manipulation:

there are recluses that are attractive.
i am raising a son i love to death. getting
somewhere.

even the witches
seem to believe less in magick, more
in keeping up appearances
these days.

rejection mind.

i feel pierced by my being sorry, so i
must really be sorry.

while your parents were divorcing, without
your consent,
i was jumped by several guys at once

being unable
to distinguish

one
from the other

all of their masks scared me.

and it stayed that way
forever.
inner-child loving me
is not enough, especially. that comes

after accepting there are no cures.

sound of a balloon. of a recorder. my dog
panting as he guards me. cancelling field trips.

there's clearly something to excavate here.
i'm sure it's something i have to
allow my teeth to fall out over.