LADY GODIVA: The Naked Truth

I had wanted to be  your Russian Doll, rushing in back up against the wall. Hair in disarray.   Looking up at you while  our mouths played.   Your shoulders       they never seemed so wide, so  beautiful.  Is his eyes. Wish I had met you in 2016's early Fall. Now I'm dropping like an NYE ball. I'm stuck watching & waiting  anticipating, always hesitating my gallop has slowed to a crawl   ...you've never stood so tall. Go call your partner,      I'd better call Saul. Leave you to your milieu.      Stop wondering of you. Used to dislike him  'cause he called me 'Beth' then I ached to partake in a shared breath. But my spot came out for a lady with a family all Brady. When there's nothing Mickey about you. Telling myself it's an awkward inconvenience  a ferried flight of emotion  lucid dreaming at its best A mind trip vacation A dist...

Family was a mere word to me. Phantamsnial phenomena, distant memory. Phantom nostalgia comes to visit. The affliction? E xquisite.   You can build that Wonderwall You can be a feather and you can be a stone but just stay and say that  I'm home. Whisper into my mouth, keep all the promises. Buy me that painting carve my name in that tree You can yell, you can critique  but please, don't you leave Too. Can't endure the thought of losing, can't stand this emotive of love.   If I can't get your hugs, I'll strive for shoves.   Because indifference can't win. If we did the wrong thing, it'd be my favorite sin. This feels uncanny, your eyes always shine. My hands will get clammy, won't you please be mine? On every Valentine, on every day. Would you waltz this-a-way and be my Michael Walter? Would you come to replenish my soul with your water? I love you like I love all of the music, I love ...

It's just tragic we lost our magic over a little hat-trick  and a gun. It's not Zak or Patrick   that lights my matchstick or makes me bolt and run I think about you so far from you and I want to be in The Sun. Now, this other guy, he and I play 'I Spy' and my ex is staying up past 4:00 AM  because he thinks he's Ricky Bobby but I've been besieged by your Lucky Charms Before Reno, before KENO  I spun that fortuitous wheel  only your lips & hips caress & kiss could ever seal this deal. But I think I know  what it is you feel.  

When your tepid garden snakes trade their panther in for a python, don't come to me as a consolation prize, Crow. Nobody puts Baby in the corner. Frith sees you. And now, finally so do I. You cannot roost in this home. All you've assembled is a murder, Crow. I will have no part in your maddening banter. Sit in your Crow Court, alone. Crow. Know that I know but still held on to my stone. I will not be sly or rave in your eye, my mouth is a mouth all alone but your ilk & your kind kill their own.

crazy bitch this fool boy say crazy bitch this dick toy cry crazy bitch  this dumb trick lay a crazy bitch prideful of your anger 'cause you's a crazy bitch shaves his head  grows his hair crazy bitch beard, goatee, 'stash  he a crazy bitch pump that iron  or laze 'n' fat crazy bitch see they don't know  a real crazy bitch would make money loose weight get plastic surgery  reinvent herself fuck all of your fucking loser friends just to fuck with all of your crazy bitch-ass heads she'd make the album and go platinum in the way you fuckin' never could a  crazy b i t c h would. a real crazy bitch  is wily, crafty, and will never roll over and take your shit. It's different when she don't love you or respect you. A crazy bitch will fucking crush you, annihilate you   she will own your fuckin' ass and you will utter her name as the last thing you say on your death bed, as your life was not achieved. ...

The panettone  here is poisonous   We live in Pleasure Island's circus  All the inhabitants are dangerously violent  The majority is silent Our currency is Soylent Green The clock keeping time is orange In military it's 19:84 You look ridiculous in your skinny jeans and budget nothing but revolt and riot keep telling the anorexic kid to diet keep denying all the tornadoes  you're gonna get tomatoes  stop denying freedom from the death squads for lil' Paco but then you're known for grabbing taco I pray they realize Now's the time to mobilize and moralize the nation  Because God's on vacation in this administration  They've been singing to your children to sin Stealing them for sex taxing your paychecks zapping your brilliance telling you magic is science                   love is breaking necks You're some guy in charge of my life that I can't dump but I can...

Strange, is your southern comfort. A cracked withering queen. Your meat's not free range. Heightening nothing but your senses. But oh, what a scene.  Lowering your sensibilities.  Forgetting your responsibilities.  There's no humanity in your consumption.  Fully dubious, that there ever was. Comes the time, for retribution.  She's got money for make-up, clothes, booze, 'n' drugs. She's got time for temptations, corruption, hoes, 'n' thugs. Another selfie in the bathroom. Another boy in the bedroom. Huffing perfume.  Putting filters on her eyes.   Now she never cries. Just screams. Like she screamed in the ride      to the hospital     to the therapist  Life makes it hard to cope     when you're related     to your rapist  Love can make you lie,     make you acquiescent   ...

Couldn't be more clearer, Video's the new mirror. My heart's broken glass, stitched sideways & broken. Makes the sound of someone creakin' 'Cuz they was speakin' and hadn't yet Spoken for the day... ...treacherous in that type of way.   I sing the blues to my palms, No one hears my songs.  Or feels the chasm  that's inside of me. Or recognizes these Psalms. With a struggling butterfly yearning to be free. Gaslighted in a bell jar. Hobbled me & said I'd go far.   Said wish on stars.   Bang the erasers for the teacher.  Cry in a bathroom stall or with Reckless abandon at 80mph After all you're just a pink flower. How many petals have you gotten plucked?  And how many times have you been fucked_           _over? When it's done, is it undone? Screaming boxing matches in this deadly living room full of mold spores and silent snores, how neatly ...

A quick suicide with a two-sided razor, If I added my blood—it’s just for flavor. I watched over her like a worried mother, Surveyed  her surrender to a Soma Coma And I would never judge her because I understand her disease and her need To escape from this quality of life & this cost of ‘living’ And the erroneous tee-vees that act like it’s reality they’re giving. Her head, It starts to nod. Her words, Get blurred and she starts to sob, Over how she needs to get a job. & I think that it’s odd that her head starts to bob And she looks less like hippie and more like odd. I’m indentured. Should not have ventured this far from home. Sadly comprehending                 I’m better off alone.

I write to know you’re wrong.  I write like John Wayne Gacy was a marauding clown.  I write like how John Curtis Holmes masturbates.     I write like how Billie Eleanora Harris Holiday sings “Strange Fruit”.  I write exactly how Henry Charles Bukowski got whiskey dick.  I write like how Lizzie Andrew Borden swung her axe.  I write like the one whispering voice in the back pew of the Sanctuary not having to compete with the loudspeaker voice from the pulpit.   I am the one true Poet laureate.  Richard Wagner foretold my arrival in 1849.   I am the avatar a Sundancer attempted to awaken.  My words will haunt you in your slumber and be engraved on plagues, buildings, statues, and headstones.  My quotes will be tattoos.  I will be immortal.  My love poems will be read at weddings and funerals.  Mathematicians suffering from ennui will find my codes.  Muriel Rukeyser...