Just Some Peoms

Just let. Letting me, letting go. Looking up for a cheaper way out. Moonfaced, moonshined. Hasn’t responded. This morning is a signal from this moaning.

Butterfly patched. Forgot the scar. But alway reminding. Yorke ate my hamster. Poor little guy. Pound. Gassed. I lied. He never bit my foot. But he also did. We are even.

"What about a willow tree?" Sorry, I've never seen one. Responding with rattling words... Dancing on my taste buds. Calculated... One ZERO 1 ZERO UNO... dos... trees. Delta wave robot snake passionate with bark. Woof. Woof. Robot willow treehouse. Robotics. Rotten rolls really rattle my world. Leave me alone in my treehouse. Never let me be the snake. I'll never let you be that snake. But I'll always ask and I'll ask, "Are you the willow tree?"

River dance on a whim.
Elastic sweat pants in bubble gum.
River danced on a grave.
River.

My artist friend remembered me that its national peom day. It's a start, maybe next year will be international peon week! Here's one I've been saving for my friends. Lips hurt. Ask mother? Lips laced with rubber gloves. Scrubbed in. Under the lamp. Shadows distract those playing god. Ripping off my face while ripping off my wallet. Over the lamp. Under the ground. Now. Lips. Vacant of expression. Cut. Cold. These lips sucked. Sucked it's their own life. Just a piece.

Fist full of couches. Arranged in crooked feng shui. Collecting stains left by traffic on the 3rd floor of a decent part of town. Catty-cornered tube reeks of basketball shorts & flip flops flipping hits on a community college education. His favorite part is coming up. Happens as we're leaving the cube of hand-me-downs & alleyway treasures. Take another seat on a different couch. A couch that sits 3 & sits 3 feet away from any wall & touches 3 other couches that mostly all sit 3. Surrounded by bad furniture. Surrounded by bad. Bad. Wash my ears & eyes with acid.

I'm 10 years passing in a month of fall is the time to rake the dried exhausted, yet experienced lifeless tree fingers through the hair of a beautiful horse child that's whispering between the toes of a limbless, once man, now spirit, a completely mechanized snow flake falling on a solarium on the month of June. This is 1997. This is 10 years.

I've lived. Live. Inside. Shared a broken down, charming box. Inside. A square. A square with a single window with a perfect view of inside outer space. Atop a queen dressed in ill-fitting, stretched out sheets meant for a full. At least it's not a twin split at sexual preference. I've lived. Live. With a movie star.

email or txt. 

In the porking lot.

"Money Peom" Cha. Paper walls. Ching. Closing. dark ness

Business. Big man with moss on his fingers. Pledge allegiance to the noose. Neck Tie. Big men hunt for you.

What do you do if your.

Just something I throught was funny enough to post because I'm still laughing. More peoms by me soon. Sorry for dropping the ball.

J<3ey

Long time, no see this peom I just cooked up. Also, can’t sleep. Really into the candle’s light. Also, the shadow is on purpose. Good luck beating this jewel.