Your skinny
white
finger
is poking
directly
into
my eye
You know
where
the
color
stops
and
there is
a dark spot
Well
your finger
has penetrated
my eye
and
now is
playing
the piano
with
my fontal lobe
While
you finger
me
I twitch
like
an animal
runover
by a car
I
feel
intense
pleasure
And
the part
of me
that
creates
working memory
Imagines
a long lake
frozen
like
a fingernail
I don't
want
anything
that you
could
not
give
me
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5 comments:
this poem sucks
i like when ian is the only person who comments on his poem.
i am sorry ian.
this is the time of year when i neglect things and shut down.
it doesn't suck.
it is different from your usual style i think.
i like longer lines better personally.
fuck.
triceratops.
i will post something sometime soon.
my writing has been little to nonexistent lately.
did you just add the last stanza?
i think i missed it the first time i read this.
triceratops.
i know, short lines blow.
ashley i am moving into deville in august.
you are moving out then yes?
sad.
feel better.
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