sorry bunny

sorry bunny

Monday, March 23, 2015


writing was never meant to be anything to me
never printed in a page or nothing

thee is one hungry cat if she cant get food she gets the nibs of my wrist

there is writing to be found

there is writing to be found

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

"do you have cards?"

"stretch the ribbon slapp me"

"do you have cards"

"one half way ribbon rides under side belly screams shouts"

In patience, windows dressing up to go to work. We are one half minute late, we will make up that one half minute by running down the street to the bus stop.

It was just like the story she told, Olguita, she brought it out in the open that smell you give off that tells recently let out patients that you are wounded.

In the sunlight while we wait for the bus to come, the air is dried up, and happiness is pushed out of the spongy manner with which we stand on the corner. When the bus comes we sit down and men look at us to sit next to our seat.

But today is a pretty funny day. Underneath my palms, as of last night's singing ceremoney we squeezed juice out of the last eye ball.
Underneath the seat, any man who sits down will get punctured. will get rimmed.

"do you have cards?"

"are you asleep?"

duction duction
in duction duction
re pro
duction duction
in die gestion gestion
suggestion gestion

2 hands 2 fingers on my tongue to the wind
two th two two fine strands of hair
find these lines
strands of hair
the finer the line the finer the find

mean lady
eats your third eye father's asshole

(in progress)

mr. cat

(words let out from the tired little girl part of some hearts right before their heart got better/bigger again aka ode to robengle/or whoever recently cut me out of their life abruptly aka)

mr. cat


if itnvrr
to me before i started this living

what love means
please delivereeeeeeeeeeee
obsession telling the truth but tells it slant

laying in bed (mother)
the most terrible outcome (money)
losing everything (your shit)

to a child (me)

love means lying about girls
binoculars for bird watching
an open field of wild flowers in spring
happiness in front of denial to YOURSELF
thin lacy hidden modest under pants

to a child's love she hoopes what happens when he/she goes to outerspace
the smells of waiting for pizza and Captain America sweat are more the memory

love is obsessively grinding eyeballs
love is realization you are not alone is longing for something you never really wanted

love yells and criticizes
blindly love hides and makes secrets and hides
wears too much make up
is never around
is alone is not around when you talk
is balnk stare into no one where

what love means
turning your back to this miseducation
when one wants to die (one knotted expectation)
and it tugs and pulls you down your skirt screamingMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA

b u t i don't know what love is.

'he stares and with his eyes
catches birds make them pray'