Saturday, November 7, 2015

numb clitoris.

a protest, because dichotomies count. now

there are two. two things
to rub.

the world
is a world now. we now all have less money
then what would suit ones needs and we make it
top priority to go above
and beyond this and someone just had to
fucking say something about it so now also
we all hate each other. water water everywhere,
summer, fall, winter, spring, happy place. and 

my favorite part
and everyone elses too- except secretly- is that

we all know

money is only paper,
stealing from the faceless
isn't all that bad
just because you might wind up
in jail (the juries interpretation of hell)


is only paper

at the end of the day
i said.

everybody is into robbery.

i remember being crazy like that. not like, have been there,
done that, and considered
myself crazy before, so that much be where i am
now- not that kind of self- identified crazy. i mean,
the kind of crazy where i wanted to stop thinking

what i was thinking but also i didn't, but
i didn't know any better. war stories up
the wazoo just like you.
i remember
those days were just as scary as they are now,
but somehow,

i prefer that era of time to this one, not
that i would've be caught dead saying so
i wouldn't have been convinced.

i'm just being honest, as they say, not
considering anything else:

the search for glory,
frying the commitment to the moment, like a damn blow-dryer
in a damned tub filled with water. we're damned

if we do. we're damned
if we don't. there's some other extreme. there's a lot
that exists that we don't know- that is-
if this is existence.

and i don't mean to electrify myself for the sake of
anything other than discovering the gateways

to other catalysts. such
complements my skin tone.
naivety for us all, no matter what,

because when you move, you move forward; at least, you
move on.

so, as long as you're doing that, do
anything else you want, as well. it takes
a near-manifestation of evildoing spirits

in order to rip bits of the shaman from
the body. and even if
this happens, it remains,

discombobulated, but still
on your behalf

so don't freak out.

is that you
in the confession booth next to mine? i thought
i fell i just fell in love,

fucking keepsake light-switch. tame your own
goddamned self. you forget
where you come from? you come from

the mortifying shit-hole
that constitutes your unconscious mind; your birthplace.

all else: now, now, now.
i'm all for it. now, and nothing else

taken into consideration. i am walking
on my own two feet, aren't i? i demand
all sorts of action take place. you wouldn't believe

whose teeth have sank into my meat today
and how often i didn't get what i wanted. water water everywhere.
am i making sense of my surroundings

and my refusal to sort them out yet?

my life
is my work.

the new plague i keep confined within, unable
to need the help it wants. it's a bubble-life; unable

to get the point across outside of itself
but it means all the world inside; it makes sense.
one day, it was

leaked online somehow
to the city of slackers. the people there become
many things at once,
and trust me, it is absurd. i prefer not to look at it

so i feel it somehow: grey cloud through a tunnel

on a rough day; information- any sort- through one ear
out the other. well aren't you
a surprise. and such a surprise it is

that i'm not into you yet. i still wish
there were more trees around; colors
found in nature (oxygen). but my style

isn't in style yet. recurrent trend: i have to wait for the people
to follow my lead and copy my shit
right after making fun of it

and sometimes they take their time because they tend to
be asleep or
are really busy watching porn: one after another

they doze off
as the clitoris erases itself into a blur- theirs, or someone

it falls asleep
as it feels outside about itself.

in the backyard? yeah, fuck yeah. baby, i'm going
to abandon you over and over all night long 'til
the cows come home and you keep almost passing out
but i keep slapping you silly on your face
and your ass too and you keep apologizing for
yawning and also you feel
eerily numb

in the backyard.