vomit (new wave)

i've never chewed
a bite
of food
25 times
in my life

was it the night
we mainlined coke,
or the night
i went to hear
emily read
and then drank
well tequila?

different potions
different meals but
the same
spray of
poorly-chewed
mushrooms and strange
stomach stuff
ended up in
front of me

swimming in
different toilets

thats me

fucking manners

she was long
lean
shorn and drunk
and she
fell asleep
at a reading

before that she
scared away a
perfectly
polite woman
sat next
to her
giggling
stupidly
at all the
wrong moments

"I feel like i
laugh
at all the
wrong times.
am i laughing
too much?"

"no, girl,
yr fine. its
dark, its funny."

she took off her
pants and wrapped
my blanket
around her
over reflective
green briefs
so tight
you could see
the beads of jewelry
in her mound
pressing
the fabric

she kept
adjusting
that improvised
toga and
waving that
neon cunt
at the air
above my knee
and we ground
the air
between
us,
a joke that
didn't get old

i laugh at all the
wrong moments

at intermission
this other
hot mess
from the hood
was practically
on the nod
and, boy,
did they hit it off

"do you want to be
my friend? let's
be friends!"

i winced

after
intermission
the lights went
down as she
cuddled up
stroked my
shoulders
grazed my fingers
and passed
the fuck
out against
my chest

i laugh at all
the wrong
moments

here he is

i never knew where you
were coming
from

i am not as
suspicious as
i might seem
when feeling
overwhelms
reason
i just eat and drink
of you
each
instead of
questioning
your intent

better off unread

shadows of leaves
stretch tall
like me
reaching
for yoga poses

sonic youth screaming
against
cricket chirps
and they are
better off alone

my breath a raspy
honking whistle
while the others burn
together
another
night

another grab bag
emotions
embraces
silly as fuck
and a new dawn
breaks
sillier than fuck

we're each and
every
unconcerned
by output

we're just
put out
by plastic
severed fingers
humors raised
erections glistening
under soft pants
like assholes
gleaming

abandoned
sterile
tactless
misinformed
unconcerned
groping

the rackets

i speak in cliches
and you
maintain cool

i'm at peace
with my unrest
and the rest
complain
endlessly
about their
proud failures
never
their
fault

fuckyoupayme
says this guy's
t shirt
and i just
watched
goodfellas last
night

donnie brasco
before that
$500 american
for a family
broken by
the war on
racketeering

progress

you work
(and wait)
(on a farm)
(in new jersey)

you grasp in
the dark
for faces
and bodies
or anything
besides
the sensation
of dropping
through
thin
air

you had a good
dream burning
til he revealed
childish, complacent
comfort
(a fault)

and i
love all
of you

(and each of you)