disutility function

welsh or wealthy, i’m whipped into submissions by scorn and softer sororities (fuck the sorrowful sand dollars!) i steal the landlocked and lost love coffee shops whose the closing time closet timing King Me! may she never forgive me.

  :  :  :

something even the most venerable of us all could not avoid, this one thing i cant get out of my head (you see how the rain obscures lane markings?) our least favorite mismatch pedestrians jump between wiper blades and past ponchos (precariously, we nudged and nodded at one another) let us lean forward i scream stumbling awkward arrogances (you call that stamina?) mumbling addresses and cell phones fumbling for heartache hidden in grammar school mattresses like holidays and trash stains all come together and the ending bent in breeding stretched my breathing across an eden misleading myshelfishness locked and boxed in (i put the abs in absolute).

  :  :  :

here i am angels, again no stabs in half all swallowed up in bear traps and throat grabs the puddle’s collapsed in all warnings vanished or wrapped in ice caps, horror and finesse forever.

and all at once we spotted that nothing so sudden could occur.

there was a thorough and terrifying moment in the making, you warned me.

lets drink in schematic invalid valises, i thought, and satisfaction.

she rose, when the rains slowed, a rough draft in doubt.

like lightening rods and airplanes, we flirted with the space between ourselves.

a gesture; a secret; what i overheard that night through the crowd.

you seem like a broken lost&found jukebox; its all my fault.

hope in this eternal sunshine california, so don’t worry.

broken neck fairy tales for a jonathon stand-in: a band i never liked.

canceled subscriptions around daybreak departures.
who’s choice to do the Right Thing?

watch out for counter space watchtowers when the wishbone keeps bending.

im a rose bush that needs trimming, over grown and welcoming the blade.