Writer's Block -- Attempt 1 (4/18/o5_)

crisp white
blouse, with all the right buttons.
soft beard, red lips.
we drink coffee til
our packs are gone.
drug-crazy bonanza.
cruella, mixhazard.
perfect at last.
mix breasts.
Mizuhaiku.
water poem?
Delve into these glassy
depths.

a touch that burns like a
witch's oils,
concocted,
simmer, thin jade in the pot,
glittering; porcelain gods can't
do you no good

it's the dry amber in your throat,
the menthol perfume, and such
pink nails,
gossmer and shallow.
wine and swallow.

---crippled mountain of stolen words,---
--not plagarism, fucker, the---
-----taking---------
----------of words------
-----literal, acidish yellow--------------
----------------legal pads with strike-outs.---

she opens a book only to close it
tonight, dust and stars go hand-in-hand
like wires behind the desk

like wires behind the desk

and a red crystal spoon to feed us
atrocitiesandclankingshudder boards
peeling paint the color of old rain
notes that were folded
back so, they tear in the creases

ever scrawl on purple?

i do.


shaved heads and plump thighs,
muscle and shiny dark hair, -/
stampinkwipe
kissmove straddlebeanbagmeltmelt,slamdoor
rolling pin,yellow again.