Mar 17

The Backseats of My Early Twenties

Beer pong and blow jobs And backseats with cool leather To rest my fevered cheek against Trace the condensation building On the rear window Lazily with fingertips That don’t want to touch And I am wishing There was a better place to do this Instead of in a parking lot Outside of a party Comforting …

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Mar 17

Stupid Poem about Stupid Airports

People will try and tell you that travel is good for the soul that the changing of places the arriving and the leaving gives you a greater understanding of the world and yourself and everything and maybe this is so but nowadays it just makes me think of endings and broken things see right now …

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Mar 17

before the sorted fall

so what may i read against the radio stations           reactionary manager may i read breasts and nipples since i know boys all           over the world enjoy them           even though i prefer chests and nipples perhaps the boy walks to the store for his mother who           may feel as if she’s overworked and thus dying           walking …

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Mar 17

suspenders

when packing up a suitcase, there may be a moment of profuse profanity, gnashing teeth, and grave indecision. at least, that’s the way it was for the sexy big-dicked teenage boy, a college freshman, going off to visit his boyfriend. what was he going to be doing with his boyfriend, other than having sex with …

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Mar 17

My Redemption

Every poster, DVD cover, and Wikipedia page shows that epic moment in Shawshank Redemption when Andy is kneeling in the water and the rain looking up at the sky and his moment of complete freedom after 19 years The jail is in the distance and people want to feel like that. But I want to …

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Mar 17

Loyalty

I’m telling Skiff that I’d never rat him out. After all, we have the same scars in similar places. & I know about the fishmonger heist, which girls work the office without panties, the fall of the Chinese broker, who’s missing fingers. Where the missing fingers are kept. I know that Skiff owns the locks. …

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Mar 17

A Valediction

When the bomb went off, Johan felt almost nothing. A bee sting, perhaps, or the sharp shock of a pinched nerve. Suddenly, he was half as tall, the earth as close to him now as it was a decade ago, when he and his friends would play leapfrog and shoot each other with cushioned darts …

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Mar 17

no longer a pink house

where runaways of all ages congregate under a rented roof, younger ones half fill green notebooks with used words flutter about needles and weed, color their spiky hair like would-be feral parrots, flock about low keyed, sleep passed out on a wooden floor, breathe through broken locks. no longer a pink house where older ones …

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Mar 17

On the Wishkah River One Day in June

I met him under the Young Street Bridge. He said his name was Donald. After a few hours of talking, I told him I might love him and he didn’t laugh or get nervous, like most grown-ups would. His hands were calloused; his fingernails were chewed down to nubs. When he touched his guitar strings, …

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Mar 17

The sensitive poet

the sensitive poet takes narcotics the sensitive poet hides behind abstraction the sensitive poet becomes more literary when he drinks the sensitive poet sells himself the sensitive poet is offended when you don’t recognize his genius the sensitive poet dreams of immortalizing himself through his verse the sensitive poet is mindful of his purse the …

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