 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
| brevity cycle a collection of my short poems. double all we could see was ourselves rutted locked in synchronous rotation boring fallen my back knows her licked lips her gritty hips and swollen tits that bitch at the end of the bar crackers how many crackers must i crumble into our knotted sheets until you go? should i be using a more expensive brand, or just more crackers? the gingerbread man speaks out, eats up "everything is not smiles and candy in Paradise Land," said the Gingerbread Man eating the crunched sweetness of his own hand, arm finishing off his gooey gumdrop heart as he licked his iced lips and smiled baphomet i have lain for eight days in our bed alone waiting for you to slip through and slip inside me Baphomet, have you found me at last? gabriel as gabriel played his harp play me pluck my golden strings until i am aching sore and sounding the sweetest of musics sour oranges you smell of oranges soured in the sun and of little boys kicking little girls who wear secret smiles as their lovers run away hiding their own smiles under swift retreating steps but mostly of sour oranges my mouth a new wound poetry spurts from my mouth blood from a new wound meaning runs garbled and indistinct frothing down my chin my chest my thighs and pools at my unmoving feet as i stand mute alone and with no name how you found me and this is how you found me standing somewhere off my center with makeup torn down to my knees and the smell of fermenting dreams about me i am simply your woman there are things there are things i will not share with everyone my father's first kick driven to hipbone child nights spent locked on our bathroom floor and how one night my lover ripped me apart and made me weep i will not talk of these things they open me and i will not be opened again |
   |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
|
| bruce the bard |
| with swift and nimble fingers i ply my trade... |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |