lower case: binaries

the worst kisser, gives the best head.
not a complicated equation, really.
justification for being cruel: if it’s good for you
and it’s great for me, then no one’s objectified, right?

swimming shorts (i)

12 y.o. girls
wear board shorts
at the public pool
to cover errant hairs
that don't appear
on the inner thighs
of the women on t.v.

let the self
consciousness begin.

the jaded optimist

subscribed to blue skies
but that didn't work out

pouring over a glass of wine he writes love letters
that were never meant to be sent

patio philosophy

a collaboration w/ dw & brahma on their day off

chairs and rules are meant to be broken
kissing and bedframes, superfluous.

bruschetta

in a lineup w/ a
lover at the supermarket
we realize that
angry white men are tiresome
arguing over the price of
tomatoes--inflation his
only interaction of his day
he blows it
and she smiles at me
grips my hand real tight
pats my lower back and calls me her baby

the secret life of ms. prism

you are drenched in it
commensurable beauty
a haunting, an apparition
each time you come by to tuck me in
i awake w/ the same
confusion empty empty sheets.

you must exist—the seats displaced
the resting place of cadaver bottles—
my confusion settles, you are not
a spirit but a true man
—an honourable man
amidst the confusion
but ‘what is good’ and what is bad
and how long will we ask
each other this—
knowing monogamy doesn’t really
exist, knowing that the
nice nice individuals we appreciate
(but could never be)
tuck their
gently laid perspectives
between comforters
at night.

thursday night brigade

sun stretches longer now
begging to be kissed back

setting a little before 8
lingering in fine folds of skin

contact points draw further

melt into that not always stark box
neat square ‘single’

before leaving the house
personas’ are drawn
sorts that wear too short
skirts, alleviate boredom.

avoiding eye contact, fundamental.
fabricating his/story, fundamental.
laughing off compliments, delightfully fundamental.

peripheral listening and dry humour
float the evening further
when singles turn to doubles
nothing but the dance floor gets
attn

attn: straddling dirties in dark corners then purging in the bathroom is not recommended

if only someone had a megaphone or a business card to spread the warning. a place like this ought to communicate this prayer by osmosis.

incessant dance pyramids w/ beautiful women
laughing, touching, indifferent to gazes

tracks from three years ago, t.o., repeat. poorly mixed, just as the drinks. but who cares?
it’s 3 and there’s no going back. recycled convos circle
i’m cared out, a sack of potatoes
at least my feet won’t get snowy.

mornings culminate w/ cabbies that are never
remembered
who paid?

save the day light