there was this time once early for some coffeeside fresh from the flight i got my card stuck jammed in the cashpoint called twice on the beige atm phone twice consented to three way translation there! my knight came in riot gear have you ever seen the inside of one of those machines?

i was searching for a card post and as it turns out, i never made it

then as farce

GARY STARED DOWN AT THE PULSING, DRIPPING BUTTHOLE HE HAD JUST BEEN FUCKING playguy, april 1999 page 27

mods are asleep post how slightly proud i am of having my poems published

when the lock breaks the angel will fret and pulled will the bathtime to wee morning's wet

im so happy. and glad

my beautiful daughter Astral Zennicka

haven't i smelled you before? in the danish play?

i would do prehistoric surgery on a tommy john

there are sirens in manhattan i am a new poet in new york read my new poem before the changes?

WaMu CEO

no hole pic, no interact

Are there toilets underwater?

🎵 hey mr secretary, lick me on the envelope 🎶

mother...enough...

staring into the well from high above

Johnny Sexually

teeth love cucumber's wet crunch

yoplait gurtlore

determined ghosts could have melted steel beams

dry erase land

oatmeal caper cookie

we make an anguished noise

knee deep in the dirty wine

a silent sort of bath

its vacation o clock in the air

toot me fruit me

"So there I was among the eucalyptus, packing mimosa by the fistful into sacks of jute, when—" A clatter rang out from my pots and pans station for the third time this week. "LISTENING IS INDICATED!" I barked at my assistant. Her ears burned scarlet-beet. "So. There I was, deep in the canyon,"

mimosa smells like products

my life is about to change... and as for yours?

What a framptous day, I shall reserve a shipping container!

how could we ever throw our blood out like bathwater?

how did we ever get so off the rails?

my beautiful daughter Janicelle Port Authority

just got tickets from Ticketnazi dot com to see Dane Jailborne’s final performance at PrimalFest 2K26

my strikingly handsome son Jonathin Rotstuff

just like that

for too many years, we have been fucking farting

party of several

santa came to hooters

sucking treacle from a collins glass

a bad dream blows over shimmering sands

the journey that can't wait

i am sweeter through the funnel

try on a look a taste of the mirror of my vanishing act

graft me still tender on the tear to seasoned old spine

an inked vessel could still hold spring water

a thin slippery world where has color gone? sucked from sand a prison from above from within

tears on draft the architect's tools buried in my flesh