prediction for 2011

>>>>>

the year before the apocalypse
everything will start to sound like this

brainfeedersite.com

let yourself be converted.

...amen

>>>>>

Toiling the Earth is a Woman's Task

note: incorporation of archaic pronouns resultant of reading John Donne all week. That is it.


When lover's bested distance shutters blind eyes 'nother blink,
When two share one identity, two fuel or feud a link,
'twixt real and not, my lover's prose, my lover's nose,
delights at garden's brink,
where flowers fall to soil and fail to boil impassioned drink.

I love you lover, but what extent pretends communion's peace?
Hearts doth bear the weight they share with crippled past's deceased.
Ease my task, I pray thee ask what cost thy cost to me.
When cost is lost to vision
thy vision is released:

Deleted loves collapsed three-fold on swift-delivered lust,
A jealous thought consumes the plot of twice-devoted trust,
One mistress tends the lilies, one weeds the seeds she's sown,
Yet assign to me the duty,
of admiring what they've grown.

Kraftwerk vs. LCD Soundsystem

The first in a series

Poem for Jon on the Occsasion of His Birth

click 2 engorge yr screen

Poems to My Lovers/Here Are Four I Fuck A Lot

"The Word Love/Tender Button's Revelation"

I don't <3>

"The Word It"

Not what you said but how you said
Paul said: why don't we do
Did you do
What is
Who is
How is
that the only word left unqualified,
extendable, adaptable, and versatile
possesses nothing
that says anything
about It.

"The Word Like"

So I was similar to, sad, because he was all in the vein of, "we need time apart." Reminiscent of, can you believe it? It's akin to getting slapped in, something comparable to, the face. Plus, nearly identically, he isn't even, you know, parallel with cute.

"The Word Fuck"

Fuck you.
Fuck you sincerely. I don't need any
enigmatic
esoteric
cryptic
pedantic prose to make you understand
how fucking
perfect
the word fuck
says everything.