papers/lighter/text

crumbled and rolled

revenge, regret, regress 04/30/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 2:45 pm

octagonal bloodied ghost
excised and floating in lenore’s
broken golden bowl
retained its vestigial tail
until i erased all biology
vocab from my notebook
in a feeding frenzy.

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the rotting brain dichotomy 04/27/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 11:40 am

two grey hemispheres
walk into a bar
brain stem bent
just a little too far

pick up the headline
that’s crumbled and rolled
blunt force trauma? hardly
crack a little harder
on the squishy pink flint
restless chiseled one

deadened and dozing
in the dappled leaf-light
brain stem bent
just a little too far
both hemispheres
craning their next.

 

summer 04/26/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 2:00 pm

sunbaked, gotta be
a fountain of garlic sweat
granola girl let my armpit
hair frolic in the stale air

wish for me
on a river in a tube
paddling with flip-flops

we skipped spring
and sprang straight
for summer, sticking
all the steps.

 

punch bag 04/21/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 11:06 pm

i mustn’t take personally
your insults

or your stupid weasel
grin… how hot my face
felt when they made
the announcement over
the intercom, purposefully
mispronouncing your name.

but i am allowing myself
to get excited
about the nervous way
our eyes meet

or how i dig on the vibe
of creeped out i derive
from standing on your broom

when you catch me looking
wolfishly at you
from across the room.

 

a morsel, please

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 4:31 am

like preteen kate
eating kippers for lunch,
i listen to belle and sebastian,
alone, attempting to force
a manic phase with my herbal
medications, dumpstered,
in pill form.

oh, but can’t i have
one morsel of my own?

yes, but not
for long.

as a worker
you eat the weeks
like a swordsman
swallows flames

rarely afforded
the luxury of hunger.

 

awake, at last 04/20/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 1:34 pm

the birds will weave your hair
when i discard it

at last, at last.
the vulgar snort
of chainsaws

please spare
the ocean mural
pleasant library cove

response:
i take no aim
i simply spit

 

sober and lonely… 04/19/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 3:08 am

a non-entity, unassuming,
in fetal sleep in borrowed bed
staggered toward hit
the eject.

tryna keep my friends from sleazing
is like asking my best friend to quit breathing
naked and crouched in your echo chamber
refusing to lose but left no remainder

ask me why i took it up
the multitude of things
ask me why my heart still twitches
when i hear the door hinge squeak
like you’re coming out of the bathroom
to kiss me silly
buzzing
your
toothbrush
electric.