'dying is an art,' she says...

[The Wanderer]

mute, absorb in it
takes pills
put it in writhing

feeling a little...
girlish, are we?
well tell me, who are you?

your western world
growing under gown
hospital rags to riches
lady in her lazarette

surgical rain
removing your excess
knees, seas of
ungrateful nest
in triage
limb by limb
lip bi lip
tulip trash

can dreams
outlast the ash
of red air

she falls silent
into the vivid sweet
words, of a touch
or a bit of blood

if things go right
they're men to be
well down there
you shave off
a fuse nerve endings,
O effete

pretty red dress
fun or real, play her
sirens, blonde bomb
shelling men like air

the blood jet is poetry,
there is no stopping it

 

[LarryMullen's POPAngel]

the blood jet is poetry,
there is no stopping it


I did miss your stuff.

 

[The Wanderer]

haha, well that last line is not at all mine

 

[ACROB@T]

can dreams
outlast the ash
of red air

 

[foray]

I'd spend money to buy a volume of your stuff.

foray