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i love you

drama
it takes
between those parties shorthand

match
and discuss

whitefaced

constitute
paper

institute
worship

stomach this
so identify
he lives

so identify

* A POEM THE SPAMMERS WROTE FOR ME - REALLY JUST A COMPILATION OF THEIR SUBJECT LINES

SECRET MESSAGES FROM ANOTHER WORLD?

APPARENTLY 'JON' CAN HAVE SEX ALLLLLL NIGHT.

I miss you.

I was so entrenched in my self pity and fear at four o' clock barefoot in recycled dirty clothes put on my red hat I was going to find you out - leaving me at midnight returning five hours later - suspicious and sniffing your discarded shirt - cigarettes hide everything.

and so does the -ism.

Creeping off my forehead divine inspiration with eight legs and a thorax took a bit of my forehead with him and drained all the notions of tomorrow and drained all my ego like steam from a kettle.

I'm alright now.

Alone - unalone - missing our fields is futile. Loving my futures is futile. Holding you so near that your eyes become one frightening overlord is futile.

I will allow you your magpies.

I will allow me my sunrise.

The moon was never ours together. It was mine alone. And though I need you I don't need you that way.

But still I miss you.

7:32 a.m. - 2007-02-11
2 comments

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