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Or soft, fuzzy slippers.
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good to have you. Stay awhile.
love, world wide dirt

Sunday, February 14, 2010

going back to milwaukee city


I get sick and vomit ice
When I climb condos
I get the ice crystals in my blood
When your hot tears lap your cheeks
My breath turns to smoke when you smile
And I fall asleep every time a bell rings
I dream whenever branches creek across the gap
And my dreams know who’s the president and who I’m in
Love with and how long I’ve been an astronaut and how
I got diabetes but it never knows when it’s over and
It’s always blinking when it’s supposed to begin
And sometimes my headache is a distant car alarm
And sometimes it over-inflates my cock
And sometimes my hands ache from too much fidgeting
And sometimes it’s because I lost my gloves
And they hurt so bad I wish I could cut them off at the armpit,
At the bottom of my left ventricle
And sometimes the air could be sand
And I hiccup it all night
Sometimes my skin doesn’t belong on my body
Sometimes I know that a good night’s sleep will medicate me
And sometimes I Ludivico myself for days at a time
Until my eyeballs become one with the air and gasp for me to cry
And sometimes I wonder if the comatose don’t get too sad
If they never dip below melancholy then I’m in
And more people love me in real life than in my dreams
But I love more freely in the farmlands of my dreams
I whisper craziness in hot ears
And kiss girls while they’re behind the wheel
And in real life I shake involuntarily
My brain goes gray and my lungs go black
My teeth hurt and I use vodka to cure my cold
In real life, I try to give back what I receive
And am lost to find the what’s genesis
I look at the people in the next train car
And are they just like me and faking it
Or is that how people like me really behave?
Sincerity is impossible if you don’t mean anything
Intimacy is impossible if you don’t really exist
It’s not that I can’t love
It’s just that I never get around to it
I get distracted easily by soft hands and peekaboo armageddons

Friday, February 12, 2010