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by Levi H Noir |
editing month old poems blink surprisingly at my unannounced visit, put my flowers in water, offer me coffee or tea & introduce themselves like complete strangers little spellchecked atheists defying their creator, trying to recall my name. fists clenched, i hiss angrily: here i am! your unlikely poet! will you not yield to your inventor? but dumbfounded, they stare and shake their heads slowly: no, no we weren't written by you; another ori perhaps, not you an ori long gone & so they show me to the door escape no escape one lickable finger, and the space between her toes (also lickable) all greased up and shiny crawling through and out and again one erect/moist hedonist nametag that says 'HELLO! i am love turned friction emotion turned motion' race horses being fed glucose are mind numbed by the agonies of erection, thinking oh to be human to be free from this savage intoxication to make love not war you dream them hundreds of thinly bristled naked pegasai, bowed in awe of your humanness and your clothes till you wake up with a whitish stain on your boxers and with those pink purple clouds that laugh at you as you bang your head through the wall (metaphorically) remembering just how liquid you are. how animal of you, sitting in bed with the sheets all in a mess, and dry broken concrete and toe cheese everywhere everywhere everywhere fetishism decomposition of baked goods: cookiecrumbles cookiecrumbles cookiecrumbles kookykrumblez (deep throat k, like
afro pubic hair arrangements, IKEBANA freestyle, yo!) well anyways, |
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