I'm A Horse

It is brown there out by the gambling house. Hulking, phallic, but nonetheless beautiful, it is a god-like presence. We can imagine a god to be childish. We can only imagine a god to be childish.

We wander the grounds. Seventeen topiaries stand where once there was nothing but sand and needles. Seventeen children of the Milky Way, grafted onto its skin as if covering up some minor mistake. The light reaches us in soft ripples, the pulse in our flesh slows, and we feel a foreign nourishment. It coincides with an accidental touch.

Fantasy Sumpreme

Swelling hard under the fluorescent tube light,
Inactive father trains his eye on the oblong utensil.

Falters like he does,
Always.
He questions his vital integrity,
Like a country song antihero.

To hold the garments he wore in the past,
Cloud eye father could peer into false memories
And be transformed, as they say fathers are.

The proteins and lipids of dreaming father's corpus,
Losing their old ambitions
In the fresh and realistic tableau,
Make their song known to him.


Vinegar floods in,
Vinegar he thinks.

suck the sack 4: through kuribo's door

It's a sadness we wear like fake snakes on our shoulders
To see the heart in another body and to know it well
To hold the knowledge of carnal transaction
To feel the shelter of innocence and the triumph of senescence

It's a joy to be the sensation on another's flesh
Or to sink slow into the ink of desperate dream
Or to burn the literature we find
In the solemn waste

And then turn our ambitions to desiccated demons
With our vessels of milk
Warm and thick, potent
With eager vitality

suck the sack 3: pencils in the coffin

Who will catch you up to speed with the forum maintenance? A special guest arrives in our studio and predicts sexual orientation with 90% accuracy. A general idea of what we're going for here in science, purposely regurgitating this ridiculous platform, is basically funding your own salary every year. I don't want to give up, I want to feel encouraged.

Papa Gets His Sex

"Pick me up off the street!"

You frantically check all your pockets:
Voters really do have a choice, openly not significant.

"Limit the impact of bad exits!"

Everything you do online is an empire:
Female judges had one good outcome.

"I'm just sitting in the vestibule waiting for the rats!"

Criticism feels disproportionate:
There's a thoughtful crowd of game developers outside now.

suck the sack 2: nobility binge

I hear that the song-men regard me
As some bitter fetal specimen
An off-putting collection of bones
And anatomy in an Igloo brand cooler
I spend most of my hobby-time cataloging
Their precise amount of acoustic diversity
And their complex ideas
So I've assembled a book
Full of downright obnoxious charts

make my body harder