oh, renoir

real emotional trash

friday's nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission: you’re such an ingénue, i want to stick it in and show you what a man can do

memory/mercury:
i take you to the disco. you're my disco. my dick so. do you understand my organization? do you understand my organs? it is, perhaps, yr first glance into life before you. things i want you to see that i can't show you. junior boys spinning for junior boys spinning. some senior boys too. you buy us drinks even though we are not of age. we are ageless. the less i notice the other people in the room. they are being eclipsed. there is an aura. a radiance. an immortality. teenage apprehension and risqué-ness at the thought of doing this here. we are on the floor. we are below. we are being surveyed enviously. what do we look like making out and making it up? at the thought of doing that there. we are walking through the tenderloin with tender/loins. it is wet. this is not my bed. this is not yr bed. but he would appreciate its use value and the mark i make you make me make.

at different times entire weeks had seemed to disappear
he wondered what initially they had agreed not to discuss

truth to tell it was blood spurting from his cock
with his one good eye he would watch

"now kiss his balls"
"now take his cock in yr hand"

then i knead my cock so that milk spurts out
across his face and neck, silver

depository. anal suppository. suppose? supine? alpine? gone danny gone. disidentify. misidentify. misrecognize. forget. unremember. reversion. inversion. versus.

memory/mercury:
what it meant. saturday night live. late night t.v. in general. dorm rooms. small. tiny beds. tiny windows. this made us close. you would arrive here late, or i would arrive there late. both of us having taken the first flight after last class economy class first class ass. then was the forever transferring public transportation. just to get to that little room. then was release. a desire saved for weeks, after which point it was impossible to get out of bed. that’s why we were there in bed in front of the t.v. next to each other. on each other. on the weekend. when saturday night live, saturday night love, would cum on and then austin city limits after that and then we’d flip around through the channels to find the funniest (stoned) either homing shopping show or televangelist. saturday. saturday sun. saturday night. obsession. deception. are you watching it with someone new now? can he do to you the things i do? a saturday when we met. a saturday when you left.

memory/mercury:
seeing that zombie movie. 28 weeks later. seeing scary movies with you. you laugh at my sacredness but only because you are feeling the same. we see the zombie man at the bus stop. this gum i chew i learnt it from you. so scared we go to rachel’s goodbye bar. neither of us like it. when was this? we must have gone back to the 45th st. house after. to sleep on the air mattress. wrestle. rest. wrestle. rest. like a piece of music in 4/4. was this may? it must have been? before you left. before i followed you.

the weekend also giving us time to sleep in. time’s the revelator. revelations. lashes. i hope together we. sex in the morning. now only mourning in the morning. breakfast in bed in the morning and t.v. in the morning. showers. how i’m too bashful for us to take one together in the shared bathroom. how it doesn’t matter in yr private bathroom. stoned and on ambient ambien and in every position imaginable. and hunter orange flannel sheets.

do you recreate the look on yr face, the holy daze, and in yr eyes that you trance into when i’m filling yr mouth and throat, when yr kneeling to kiss my feet. washing the saint’s feet with yr mouth christlike, with yr christlike mouth.

cherry blossoms. cherished bottoms.

the pain of loss is not the loss per se. the loss of the tangible material, which is always transient, which is always already being lost. it is the loss of the lost, of the thing that was never there that is not here. for i have not fingered yr flesh for sometime now, but i have always forever never contained you.
a lost cause
lost ‘cause
it never was

"i had read somewhere that lovers get rid of any intruder, so with wild fantasies in my brain i slipped back to my bed, my joy of life shattered, torn apart in my inmost being for my whole life!" — wilhelm reich

“and the waves of us following what follows, retelling ourselves what we say we’ve said in this tongue which will pass.” --michael palmer

memory/mercury:
smelling of sex and pine. on bikes we ride round an island painted red. riding bikes like kids unconcerned with efficiency. unconcerned with efficacy and unconcerned with effeminacy. effemi-nancy. sea breezes of clipper ships and a picnic gathered from the only store there is – bread and cheese. a circle of trees. circling and open. like yr mouth on my cock. circling and open. hardly a 2track through an overgrown forest. but then there is water and it makes us naked and swelling. the poppy in yr hair. the picture i take. nestled in the reeds and nestled in needs. safe and in another country and in another time zone. how are bicycles accurately portrayed abandoned and on a rocky shore? shoes and socks removed and jeans cuffed to test the water. overcast and brisk but not uncomfortable. especially considering the heat between. i would will to swallow this moment. anchor it inside. the feeling before cumming of eyes meeting, of a breeze blowing across a bare chest, of arms entwined in legs, of a head between thighs, of grass on skin, of stony impressions. the disappointment of having to pull up pants, put on socks and shoes and rinse mouths.

you having text with me:
11.11.06: 01:32: i love my beautiful baby boy

13.11.06: 04:36: i love you

02.02.07: 02:39: i want you so bad

06.02.07: 02:24: i feel bad i kept you up so late when you are sick sweet dreams sexy

08.02.07: 03:14: cumming

12.02.07: 01:51: i love you and can’t wait to lips and touch you all over

13.02.07: 02:32: my babes better not still be awake

01.03.07: 02:16: i miss you

02:28: :p

04.03.07: 04:36: i’m jacking off

05.03.07: 16:57: hey toots

09.03.07: 10:48: love u 2

01.04.07: 18:43: miss you baby face. i had a wonderful surprise waiting 4 me when i got home

03.04.07: 03:29: i miss my sweet baby pookie

06.04.07: 01:11: i miss you so much

09.04.07: 02:01: sleeping without you is the loneliest thing in the world

20.04.07: 02:13: love you too

23.04.07: 02:05: happy birthday. i love you sweetie

13:24: tell danny i said happy bday miss u love you!!!

29.04.07: 16:53: i love you and miss you already

11.06.07: 08:02: babes! don’t forget the oliver movie and sascha’s bag

15.06.07: 19:07: great. can’t wait to see you

01.08.07: 17:18: i love you baby. hope you were on time to work

17:19: i love you baby. hope you were on time to work

19.02.08: 23:10: i miss you sweet pea

20.02.08: 23:15: i don’t see it but i feel it! tis nice to be on the same time zone now

23.02.08: 15:29: i miss you a lot. get better soon

01.03.08: 00:32: good. miss u. did i leave u messages or were u on the other line?

01:00: oh i wish it so bad

01:07: masturbation ain’t either

02.03.08: 04:19: ditto and i want the best for you and your body

04.03.08: 23:23: u r sexy face with baby eyes

17.03.08: 03:31: if we had sex now you would probably kill me and then i would be dead and u would be sad

19.03.08: 23:45: weird i just listened to that song like 4 times today. u know i wrote about you today

23:49 that’s private it was in the book you got me from china. and i read the other stuff i had written in it all about you and it made me sad like el perro

20.03.08: 00:02: it’s very positive towards you don’t worry

00:04: nothing i was just reminiscing
00:28: you’re drunk

home is not where the heart is. home is where you go when you’ve left yr heart elsewhere, when yr heart has given out. we’re in the same time zone again. is that meaningful? better or worse? it is neither. it is presence. it is presentness. it is pettiness. it is prettiness. the woman with the sex and in the city ringtone. reggaeton. stranded. something falls out of his pocket. a voluptuous girl walks by. i wait for the phone to phone. phonetic. phoneme. phenome. pheromone. will someone please pick me up and love me? support me? care? get to livin’. like dolly says. vigilance. virginance. open yr heart to me and yr wallet will follow and only then will i follow. life doesn’t make sense, life being the totality entirety of everything existence. what makes sense is you and me in a warm environment in a warm embrace. the glow of a t.v. that comfort. not these old men with gollum voices and phone not phoning me and the heavy breathing. show me something that will amaze me. that will move my mind outside, or at least away from, itself. the foul smell of cheap perfume and alcohol skin hidden beneath a shit-faced grin. i will not be sick. it will not be yr fault. do not attempt to comprehend that which you do not understand. make my life easy for me. make my life happy for me. rolling rolling rolling. where is the disco? where is the cocaine? the cowboys? i’ve left them behind in the dust and detritus of memory. shorn and shed hairs and skin flakes. make me hot chocolate and climb into bed with me. a mattress on a wooden floor, warm from humping, worn from waist thrusting. fame, fortune, riches, jewels – these are the tools with which i build my being. you’ve already picked up yr meds, what are you doing now? sleep deprivation. nerves. anxiety. lack of xtc. lack of miraculously. i am not afraid of death. i am not afraid of lack of breath. i am not afraid of “hey dude.” lax of communication. lacks of commune. a hand moves automatically. a hand moves erratically. take me to the riot. at the edge of the rio’s levy. make me make you muddy. muddle yr manliness. muddle yr manly knees. adult babies, childlike manliness. manly childishness. no sex tonight. “ i ended up throwing out all my socks and underwear.” with my end up. a stupid child. stupid children. stupid parents. stupid dolls. stupid words. sick kidz. sick bids. sick nezz. s.o.p. seat of pants. sop it up. i can’t stop. won’t stop. off the clock. on the rock. suck my cock. four letters. four flowers. foyers. faggots. maggots. maggy-ies, magpies. moon pies. my eyes. yr thighs. chicken legs. a black dawg begs. my throat is not sore. i soar. we roar. they are there. i left them, what will they think (of me)? missed opportunity? every time opportunity is taken, opportunity is missed. it’s the inability to be in two different places at the same time. why try? why cry? why not defy? convention? detention? contrition. exhibition. malnutrition. when may i phone you and will you answer my calls? my prayers? reminisce. kiss.

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http://arts.guardian.co.uk/flash/page/0,,2265500,00.html

http://www.theoneswelove.org/home.html

http://www.youngjewishandleft.org/

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the garden:
http://www.myspace.com/loverstheband

danger:
http://www.myspace.com/thesoundofarrows

dwts:
http://www.myspace.com/sissywish