oh, renoir

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
the truth is not that i want to fuck you but that i want you to want me to fuck you

the pleasure is mine
is twofold
watching you gleek
and breathing yr secondhand smoke.

textual relations/e-ruptions
pajamas and the grace of
snow on blood
church on white.

chest naked
cold
a mouthful of lies.

bare feet
on a wooden floor
blank shadow cross patterned wallpaper.

wrap me up
slip 'n' slide me into a drawer
THAT SOUND.

the house doesn't smell like smoke anymore but it does smell like cat piss.

blue background
black trees
the inability of ice — slippery.

wish the sky were higher
the days longer
the woods warmer, polished.

if you cover yr face
if you sing aloud
then go up on the roof at night, or an attic.

don't talk like you know it
don't turn on the lights
don't cooperate.

let yr nose bleed
yr knees bleed
the books are in boxes.

a knock at the door
and you're made to perform
smiling gay-face in glasses.

you're gonna lose it, loser
the last frame is one between the legs
boyish boy-face facing the surrogate father.

and bagpipes.

deliberating is debilitating.

peace, love, and kurdt.

in dreams (may):
i'm on a ship trying to find life rafts and vests but everyone's faster and taking them already and i know i should have hidden one away to begin with. you've moved in my sleep and i wake up in front of a mirror. a barn is going past the window and we are docking. i don't try to find my family but they find me anyway.

you've just had yr blue velvet blazer tailored but you're too uptight to ask daddy for a ride so we're gonna walk along the side of the highway.

lots of driving around on 4wheelers and mopeds and things that go slow and are close to the ground and are yet to be invented. you are drawing yr own map on top of another map and it is making a mess of the order.

a green sequin leotard.

we are sailors and we are playing videogames and i blindfold you by wrapping a black leather belt cross yr face.

looking at:
bau bike
distant world circles tiny star
german corpse may be luxemburg
glue society
lol theorists
peaches - lose you
space headache a real phenomenon

listening to:
magnolia electric co - josephine
joni mitchell - that song about the midway
wilco - theologians