lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick lick

I wish I could stop being a menace and going
out to the ATM, stealing money and feeling like
a vandal only I don't feel like a vandal I
just know that I am. I do not feel as though
I went to the center of your world
and took a shit
I just know that I have. Like a middle letter in the alphabet
one that isn't used too often and is derived
from something slavic, something hard against the teeth
will you ever forgive me?
I only have the courage to ask when I am in
my drinking shirt and my makeup,
baby girl you shold know I forgot to ask you to put your foot
into my stirrup and kick me as hard as you could
in the flank, click your tongue for me
so I'd be reminded to trot, to canter
will you ever forgive me?
All us addicts are the same. It shouldn't surprise you.
What I do to try and continue grazing alone and fat
shouldn't surprise you.

I feel like I'm ready to be shoed.
Have some nails driven into me, putting me to metal
maybe keeping the calcium from
growing too long but when I see you come
from the shoddy barn with the halter
I put my hindquarters to use and kick at your good skin
and eat a baby's fingers
what was that last line it doesn't matter
I'm just your ordinary drunk
who says the words to get you out of the way
will you ever ever ever forgive me?
Don't listen to a goddamn thing I have to say
because if you do, and understand al all
then
god rest you, rest you. You were always too young
for this like I was.
But am not anymore.

And someday you won't be too young

how dissapointing.

Squish Squash

If you have nothing new to say it's probably best
to keep your lips to yourself, sticking them out
without anything behind the teeth is something
only children and assholes do. Keep your head to yourself
too, and your greasy brown hair, the bags under your eyes
are taunting me oh fuck you it's not fair, all the space that
is under there rudely asking me to get inside
to fill them out, I will not go to your show. Just so
you know, I made no sign with your girlie name
and I am not trying to be your friend even though
that's all you needed not the sheets of my bed
wrapped around your jaw like a pony trained and shaven oh, fuck me?
Really. F the valley U the twin C your tone K the back
the back you couldn't win. I'm dragging A limb L ord
I am Vs you i have an E d in my stupid stomach sorta but not really.
Have you told him yet?
About how you,

trying to make the men jealous IOU a pancacke
and a cab fare to Queens but there is no such thing
as a lady, a fucking lady maybe but that makes her
very very un-lady.
file your teeth and maybe we'll talk but until then
get your smarmy hand off my arm while baby girl
is trying to sleep. What does your sister think of you
dry humping a stranger's leg?
What does your dead father see from heaven?
The balding spot on your head darting around
lower manhattan?

LOL I'm just kidding we could be in love
if you died.
People always really love whoever it is
that has just died.
Ever notice that?
When I die feel free to remind everyone that I was an asshole and
remind anyone who says otherwise it's impolite to tell a lie.

Boomstown

fe fi fo fum I can hear her baby here she comes
such little lips for such wide fists
smacking the backsides all the young drunk bitches
haven't you always wanted to feel in love, well
a hand print on your face is the outline of
the spell, red, real and stinging like hell
What the fuck were you thinking?
Black mascara never made you very pretty
fe fi fo fum can you hear her baby 'cause here she comes
What the fuck were you thinking?
You know exactly where girls like that come from.

I am in so much trouble

finally.

Cheery A Cheery I Cheery U

Why do I go back to it I guess it's because I don't have anything to keep me PTC. Maybe my mother was right and you almost killed me but maybe you're the only proper noun I need. I don't think it matters. Nothing is going to happen. I'm kicking around my little life and missing having someone to pass it off to, see it kicked back at me, never in a straight line. All the strangers I've been playing with want to use their hands and take off down the street. Fouls fouls fouls. I don't think I should delude myself into thinking we had something good when we were always being so bad.

you're mostly what I think about.

excuse me
is it true what they say?
about guys who go out by themselves?
is that they go home by themselves
you've seen me dance here alone before
is it tough to watch
friday after friday?

Xiu Xiu

"An Ian Curtis wish list is a list of things that you have convinced yourself that you want to have happen, but you know that are never going to happen. But, you've sort of deluded yourself into believing that they're going to happen. So half of your... and then you feel like a total ass about it... like half of your body's completely fooled itself into believing something's happened and half of your body is totally beating yourself up because the other half of the body is fooling itself. So an Ian Curtis wish list is things that would fall into that category… like being crazy into this person.”

Small and Hairy

Alleles Alleles Alleles choking on Allels and an XY
in the electon cloud with the XX bouncing off
the neck of a stranger, Ping ping oh shit did I ink
your name I did haha, I did HaHa I DID HAHAHA.
What does it mean when you pay for the cab ride
uptown with a Mexican on your lap and a piece of gum
putting dyes on your tongue, I think it means---oh fucking sick
I just missed my own birthday because
I was flat back drunk bebe, maybe BABY
Whoo ha Haploid, Get me a diploid like OMG ASAP
and I'll write you a letter with all adjectives
and I'll paint you a picture in my favorite F-key
It's our loss, I can't really brag
It's a normal everyday loss, in between normal everyday
weather patterns your biggest stories were not spectacular
they were everyday sad like
the way your half-brother died before you
were old enough to remember what his
favorite colors were and you didn't have
anything out-of-the-ordinary to do.

I know where I need to go, doe dow do DEE
Daudi Gaudi Thorir AsgearrrEAR Do do do di
really really makes me burn up something mad
leave me! Whoowee
seriously
seriously though honey
that was pretty hot.

White People Dancing

Lady Serotonin please paint stars on my head
make me want to live that part over again
an ugly monkey kid with hairless little limbs
sitting in the back of mommy’s car she said
RITALIN RITALIN RITALIN
I dance like a star but laughing
shouldn’t sound like this, it shouldn’t always
come out so hard, she said my body is huge,
my body is too huge—she said
my hands are along your skin
but I don’t feel a thing--oh fuck oh fuck
OH HOLY FUCK I AM DEAD.
Living makes me look like this WRETCH
diatomic gases leaking from my head, trickle of barf
with chunks of ugly things I did
Shh I said and pulled out the amygdala through her lids
until she started uh uh uh ohhh breathing again
Don’t you ever want it hard? Don’t you ever
want it want want want want it to push you too far?
I said POCO BABY BABY MY BABY IS FED
spent an hour posing in the mirror
singing honey bee darling, sugar lips sweetie
someday you’ll understand
that your mommy is dead.

Sorbonne my Asshole, Asshole.

This is about a couple faggots and a basketball
riding in au coeur de la ville, riding in L'arrière de la bouche
with lime green nail polish stuck
around the jaw of Julian the Apostate
screaming TOUCH IT TOUCH IT TOUCH IT.
This is about Bedelia L'énorme
and how many days it took her to hoover the Seine
This is about her fat pair of thighs
squeezing the breath out of votre vie by
rubbing out the bad dreams
while you played chopsticks on your brother's piano.
This is all about your boring brown eyes
the first time you. The first time, me, nibbling on
a stranger's knee
this is about how you threw your back out screaming
TOUCH IT TOUCH IT TOUCH IT TOUCH IT
through the rusty screen of your open window
that lined your shoebox
above the Champs-Élysées.

I told you a lie with the crack of my lifeline
stuck over your mouth
about a pack of matches and the dead guinguettes,
dancing to the shaking of your Percocet maracas
with your ringless finger stuck into
votre oeil gauche making me scream
TOUCH IT TOUCH IT TOUCH IT
while we waited patiently
to become quelqu'un beau,
quelqu'un forte--
but we're just
a couple faggots with a basketball.

I sigh and bury my head in the pillow. I feel one of my organs push its contents into the next organ in the chronological order of digestion, an order I to this day am not sure I know. I tend to imagine anything that goes on underneath my skin as a sort of opaque carnival that sends various faceless objects in a series of pointless circles, and actually feeling any sort of tangible movement of flesh or liquids unnerves me. It makes my being alive seem mechanical and strange. Being a homospian boggles my mind on a daily basis. I have a problem with peremeability--I do not want to be permeable in an ambigouous way, in a philosophical way, in a physical way. The outside word is filthy and it is other and I know the inside of me is red and fleshy with bulges in horrifying places, mixing creams and acids in a variety of disgusting pools of matter and I have an insurmountable amount of issues with this, hence my EMETOPHOBIA. It is the ugly inside coming out and I can't stand to be reminded of the ME being as messy as the OTHER of my MEMBRANE being PERMEABLE all the disgusting breezes coming in and coming out without any say so on my part, on behalf of my lovely, innocent carnival.

The process of reproduction is quite perhaps the most horrifying example of this lack of membrane. Even if it is not for reproduction, you have to examine everything as its scientific, basic factual purpose in which case being penetrated, injected, having the OTHER put inside of you in the most universially mammalian process that if viewed through a video would revolt the most self-actualized and at-peace-with-the-body of people, the growing and the eventual horrifying expulsion of what the OTHER has put into you through a puncture in your membrane, you are not closed off to anything yet open to everything without any say so on your part, on behalf of your hideous, smelly carnival.

So how do you rectify this? Align yourself peacefully with the idea of being removed from the naturalness of being alive in respect to this philosophical quandary? I do that, I'm fine with that. I am above it, I should be heralded. People disgust me. Ugh. Myself included, but not in an emo way--in a physical way. Love is not blind, love is retarded. Its your chemicals alerting you of the precident created by evolution to pair to mate to have another-- as the one who goes away from the pack gets eaten, gets in trouble, dies young, doesn't perpetuate the species, is a waste. I have intellectually evolved beyond it but just because I know the law of gravity does not mean I don't fall. I think and I think and plot and still I come to the same conclusion.

Fuck it. Let's break out the booze and have a ball. At least I exist. I don't have a higher purpose and neither do you. Nobody is watching you and nobody is monitering the synapses in your little brain--a brain that is well within the bell curve of everyone else's brain having the same influxes of peptides, the same flavors of emotion, jesus WEPT we are not special, I do not need to be fretted over or upon because I am mildly out of my mind BECAUSE of my surrender to my mind, my wonky distribution of chemicals bestowed upon me by heredity, by environment, by circumstance I really am done fighting the tide, hello, this is who I am this is what I believe after all the shit and the lovliness I have been through, whatever, we all have a bad story to tell that would make you question the tapestry of humanity, so what the hell. What the hell. Who cares I push things too far I'm damn curious and I'm not righteous about it anymore but I'm not sorry anymore I'm just going to breath in and out and pretend that process is not a chemical rearanging of atoms my body is siphening away from THE OTHER to make THE ME continue to exist.

Someday you will die somehow and something's gonna steal your carbon.

Oh oh I bite my tongue la la red alga. Lightly robots. It's good...not so hard now oh but I feel this chance to drop I like that I wrote you a love letter on a traffic cone I was with that drunk and my stand up who didn't work hard enough at getting their fingers into my hair and pulling as hard as they could I always have this fantasy of getting arrested and having my face smashed down real hard into the hood at the point of the night where i licked all my lipstick off but there were no cops, no cops ever give me discerning looks nobody ever puts my hands together none of my parents ever take my pony away nobody ever wants me to be anything quiet like everything I kind of want to be and I swear all the time on my mother's name that I'm being noble in the thrash but at the end of the day the flail has never clocked many hits and I sleep for days all the days I rub through for sleep i fight to hide that I've given up but then.... really oh the relief is the oddest thing.

I'm really fucking pissed off at everyone for failing to scold you. I'm disappointed nobody is disappointed in you and thinks that you're a sloppy mess who ruins the night out by sucking up all the air and letting the whiskey make you sad and desperate as you paw at the general direction of the loudest noise while you give a predetory glare that reminds me of something really hideous that I dreamt about when I was 16 and certain my life was over because of a rock that hit the window of my house and I just think someone should give you a talkin to i wish people weren't scared of you and didn't paw you back like you want it when it's obvious you've just lost something that you know can't be retrived from the storm drain you didn't even really like him he was dumb he was real real dumb and real real basic and you just thought dumb and basic would be easy but you found a way to make it ugly and kind of old with a nasty stench it takes you weeks to clean out because you're lazy to boot mousey little red crested ground lousse.

I'm going to go eat several slices of pizza something hideous and alone because i am hideously alone hahaha that was very live journal nevermind then I'm going to put on some horrific noise band shit and make out with a crack pipe while tracing the veins in my arms with a green sharpie instead. Success! I am a success!! I just discovered the meaning of life and now I'm going to tell my mother about it. Hi mom. Mom mom mom my father is ruining my life.