Tag Archives: drugs

only if there’s a last supper after my “last supper…”

if i let my tongue burn, sometimes i think i would die. sometimes i think i would die if i let you fall under my breath where i hide my bread crumbs. it’s because they didn’t teach me misery right. … Continue reading

Posted in Cohering My Trip, Life, Recollecting India, Recollecting Insanity | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Grated Slate; Cocaine

I made you mountains. I pulled on plates of porcelain— and here                 are your black lines. And here is some white guy; The president of feces. I drew him                 of black lines. Now you draw into mountains                 … Continue reading

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prostituting avalanche

that foam spread over mounds, mountains of guilt wafted for the sake of clarity. there is more that can pass through such lips… i was reciprocating mutable charm to drip off my chin– but only on weekends. he obliged, promised … Continue reading

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tears mean nothing

sighs clean lips like doubt. i’m biting thoughts for attention. whisper in blinks. whisper in blinks. i scream in-between reality (only when he’s not looking). it’s terror by eternal permanent enamel. someone dug graves, i swear they sowed death up … Continue reading

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Barbies Ziplock Baggies

Oh shit. The dialing of eyes was reset! I was swaying in my beset, tender mucus slug rest, but my fingers were watching salt– They’re such inquisitive little things! Thoughts slanting on impulsive foolish adrenal nerve endings!! Let’s climb through … Continue reading

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The High Class

Pills fall in line on the palm of their hands. Capsules in round vogue the latest trends. Back in the vault, cheap transparent plastic from Christmas circa 2000, trap coated yellow models batting labels for release. Tension builds like the … Continue reading

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“happy birthday.”

the Romans left out the tails from the tales of mer- babies. but those babies aren’t real. I’ll invert death, snort power, with powder for the babies butt. those babies aren’t high like ancient pitchers stained on display, pouring Sedgwick’s … Continue reading

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You always look dead when you’re sleeping.

Like a metaphor for burying the deceased, they cake on powder to burry their creases. Just pretend sleep keeps the skin salient like spit balls missing their targets… I was salivating at this thought to rehydrate acid tears from their … Continue reading

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Lakeland

Placid lakes are accompanied by bums that walk their fringe, carrying cardboard prophecies and hollow Big Gulps from 7/11. They feed off the charitable                    (also known as the dim-witted) because they can’t see them sitting in skin as though bones … Continue reading

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.4g for You and Me

She’s a virgin to sin like muslim daughters and dirty bachelors from Connecticut– but the curries so good! I won’t be a vegan tonight. I won’t drive sober tonight. I’ll drink too much water laced in watermelon– or ecstasy? I … Continue reading

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