A very special thanks to all those who have been showing me/my poetry some love these past couple of days. I really appreciate it.
Dystopian sci-fi moment of the day: as soon as I started pumping gasoline at the local carwash/convenience store/what have you, a little screen starts playing this weirdly aggressive mix of showbiz TV and news soundbites. Like, the act of pulling the trigger to the nozzle is what activates the screen. It made my stomach drop out.
she doesn’t care
whether or not he’s an island
cake italian leather sofa
addendum to the death list: I would love to have my skull dipped in gold and made into a bong, post-mortem
- target of political assassination
- drowned in sriracha sauce
- politically-motivated sriracha sauce drowning
- murdered by a time-traveling future self
- blaze of glory
- “blaze” of glory: asphyxiating from smoking tons and tons of weed
- thrown into volcano by supervillain
- eaten by shark
- dragged to hell in demon summoning ritual gone awry
- made into vampire and staked by celebrity vampire hunter
The last time I went to NYC,
my friend left me alone
for nine hours.
That relationship is over,
but I got to know the city. It smiles
like someone who hasn’t told their family
that the illness is terminal.
I like you best
when your hands are tacky
with pollen, and my hands
in the thick darkness
of your hair.
If that’s making you happy that’s brilliant. You know? People shouldn’t be so snobby. To say that “Beethoven is great but 2 Unlimited is crap” I think is rubbish because it’s just not that simple. It’s like saying “filet mignon is brilliant food but bananas are stupid to eat!” It’s not! You need all the different things.
props to u if you know exactly who you like, or exactly why you like them, or just generally if your sense of attraction isnt an amorphous fluid that seeps into the most annoying crevices of your social interactions