David Lynch

David Lynch would
wear a tan coat
and have a grey
quiff all his life.
As a new switch cut
into the main trunk;
wears cologne too.
Tin can all semblences in.

The work of old boots
gathered into
a rubber band
that'll not last;
women too, that'll
sustain a facial tattoo;
or a dream tattoo
grows and still grows.

Passing Away

Why we dated; supposedly
awning of liquor for some time.
What behind bangs? What behind
'em?! Astringent for nought.
Jaw line also is for nought.
By virtue of their being chosen
forty two men hence turn
to forty six quickly. Oh my god,
quickly. Truncated, fucked so
well as to be sleeping. Until
coming hurt not in the body.

My bangs grow out over time
and will not say that whatever
surceases because does though is
so dull.

a Tally

Got to fifty today in tallying
fuckable men. You were only
three of these; David, Percival (!),
Brad.

Love

Through ignorance and being
very busy this place tells me
to "make do." All of the walls
say it. When I am sleeping
and when I masturbate. Brick
take. And I took that brick
home heartily. And I am
here. Smear of new printed
material so new printed material.

So here and farther, though
transatlantic cables do connect us
so less than this. Love
I am sharing my drugs with you.
I am growing up a new child
having all of the right things been done.
I am smart, vocal, have written
a short novel of space bananas,
am broken, unbearable, go to good school.