3

Downlike a rainbow coming
Pot o gold
Serious, let's get digging
Heart pounding his this
Soul fill of it
Crying exposes raw
In the alley at midnight
Saying "love Does exist"
she came body down beauty mongst the shit and piss smells from cat calls of hot bloods greek lettered and looking to damage clap hands and say together.
she got pink shoes in puddles whilst i piss then turn to say 'huh'
she of crack she of tristessa reformed and sad because i am not that genius writer not kerouac to go falling in love and touring mexico with faggot burroughs, just this self and we both tired both lonely both looking to fall into something hot sweet time consuming.
adventure baby
'gimme a ride for this'
more accurate 'gimme distance from this'
more accurate 'gimme me distance from this an fer this right?
she spits
right there in the toilet she spits right there amongst historyof sloppy kisses and cum
amongst history of deep knee bends and ghosts of peckers puking thinking i to self
'man i could make something of this bitch, man i could make a song with those tits hot moans in the back of car midnight dreaming of somebody to care about
"thinking'this got to be better than the beer bellies and polo scent talk of going to be's, right?''
going to be somebody doing something someday, an right now i am making good effort to appear wholly normal on track' goes they
goes the accomadations
the time consumers
the non pal hang arounds
who would tell them any deep secrets or be exposed confused and willing to say any more than, 'man we are on our way.'
she is adventure
sitting there . . .mean leaning there
amongst the shit and piss n dirty graffitti
pocket full of horrible
pocket full of ghetto sunrise
pocket full of ??
that could ruin a career if i wrote this unanonymous.
she is now
when i am fully formed ready to burn the town down
relay to the magnificent seven
the la grande adventurers get them hot buttoned jealous that not only am i lawyer to be but right now excitement get it?
so i risk getting clobbered for it all
lean hot breathed
drink breath
tremble skin
in the deep of night
when no angel is working
an say 'onward . . .lead."
she wants to get tuned now
in carwith springsteen playing. american mind turns to sonnnet turns to poetry when it's about to get ugly.
beauty is the infection that you forget you could be doing something more.
beauty is in the flow of words like the mighty willamette full of shit and horror kill you if you get too deep head above water forget and let dirty fingers do dirty work and now she wants to drown.
american car muscle mustang to american music to american slums an we are going to slum it drink six pack while moving. let those voices echo let those hot bloods who feel blue balled scammed because they couldn't gang rape her in tune to sigma call let them fade to speed to speed realized to budwiser to slick nights to towers of empty eyes that carry MORE MORE MORE gasoline for the blood stream carry on.
inwards:in car
her chest is heaving she is play tough with wet cunt an i can smell it. may be gone but not far enough to accept the fuck it.
got me sensitive ladies in the early evening that would rat me out to their own if i infected them dig?
we the latch key set our selves up a real grown up universe, straight out of the movies, hidden metamorphosis dig.
she is what you become when you can't do a career just over dreamt to only understand that a career is a consumptive worm eating dreams while a dream is a consumptive worm eating careers. not fully formed abortive and drug/drunk to the gills she smiles hard cracks along lips and cheeks dark bags under eyes.
her mother dead
father gone
stab me in an instant if we came in the way of forgettingan she got some man in some shit hole getting better from the same shit she gets full of dig
'it is going to get rough' thinks i
i make her swallow my tongue and force my hands to her tits and between her legs, can wash it off right?
i force it on her try to make her in focus in light change her ways be a vacationer not permenant vampire. each breath each bit of spit and each second of pressure on her sex is a telegraph to the brain trying to force her to think of school, of romantic american everdayism while the art of salvation is tricky cause same time wouldn't mind pushing the bitch out of the car and try to get me a train already on track to glory time master degree family future fulfillment. not writ write
should be
try to jesus my magdelene into heaven but cant help thinking heaven may already got my angel.