oh, renoir

friday's nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission, part 1:
to seize upon the midnight with no pain

textual relations/e-ruptions
haiku 1:
morrissey dance par-
ty in a portland basement
where my gays at, girl?

haiku 2:
heaven is red flags
arranged in an octagon
the smell of lemon

poem:
yr imprisoned uncle
and verbena
and verbena
and black hair
the incongruity of two white swans
if anyonebody ever tries to hurt you
i will kill them

a feedback loop of bulges and dyke projects projects on memory’s movie screen scrim, silver and flickering. x comes forward. y comes forward. z fades into etherblack, back down my spine coiling out yr tailbone where masseuse fingers rest. the rest shuffle like pedestrians in a house of cards. the rest are detritus, the backlog of inconsequence. i dive into northerly water. i swim between my legs. scissorkicks cut across the sheets and yr bruised knees. bones kneed muscles and vice versa. atrophied, the rest rest.

departure and worry. arrival and expectation. departure and expectation. arrival and worry.

pine trees. forever green. allure you to climb up thick trunks that leave fingers smelly and sticky. dead needles that crunch beneath bare feet. cone ornaments. broken branches. dewy forests. sawing lumber. yr heavy breathing, but that’s okay it means you’re comfortable next to me, either that, or you don’t give a fuck. the sandman is singing and the sirens are calling.

inchoate. indefatigable. toeheaded. finally nothing at all. i gave you the word. and then you gave me yr word – the world. the genesis of twins. the merriness/mary-ness of wigs. a black mask across my eyes and a hard-on tucked between my thighs. you were the child in me. and i chided you. i tried you, both in the sense of attempt and in the sense of attest. i tested yr temptation and i tempted yr testicles. did you have it in you all along or did i put it there?

LOOK!
yoko
martijn hendriks
jon haddock
gay utopia
scott treleaven