they stole my fucking broom

cleaner assholes


the sun will be okay when you really want to say something

but after  a moment the loan was repaid

with a reply about time becoming a rose


on a watch with a heart

it was hurt and the movie was pin


in the sunset


she had to tell him no

everyone in the class took pictures with the teacher

and she was hair it could have been complicated


& they know tripling the conversation

I usually say spin

the marbles of wine

two perched


that I have never been in love feeling like a classic

it’s the opposite into the past

the dream

was a dream until it was not operating teaching


the room in her light

time changes it’s molecular

& the worse stickiness

was that they dismissed your fear like a clamp


the image which she tells you will appear as a link

people want to blush into a double jump

a new made

making love in something like countless snowflakes


how devastatingly sad that is sensual so fragile

money is shit daily chores

bass is nice

gallons more than pores


& resists most of a microscope

I believe to be drunk & high so we shall see how the story evolves moonlit

apparently it involves how normal they are

family & death & mostly trust

the perfect life


oh & gender defenders of nothing

& music entering heaven

& love biological

& what it means to live tangible

& trauma debate shift


harriet tubman died yesterday kinship

oh did I mention a guy tried to rape me in bed complex multicode

yeah that happened multicultural universes

it’s better louder


what is family if not tan

cellos are sexy operating teaching

world traveler goes back to roots can be a grey of fuscia

live usually live dosha the lemons


ones melting me how pink would change

it’s trying to rain how the rays shed

impetus is quite strange and I have not told anyone

dice is a nice touch


& that’s okay

I just have to say two things

and I’m drying my sweaty bra with the air conditioner

as a side note

model b: music is exceptional. fuck

I will keep your he is her

present in print dowels of thread



I will keep your something sung seen sound

mandolin wound acoustic in green well soaked wells


stop sax



I will keep your fog climbing toes set to rain set blue lined

spine scent sticks

low lit snow schedules of cloves day singing



I will keep your age of


rests tatted speak

the most fiercest


blurry in gardens


I will keep your pattern gated concentric

molds of past paths of a sleep address moment my side your passenger in evergreens

lipping beauty breakfast hands my hair a soft someone

fuck me

play book


& sleep

3.27.14 009

team friend friend team

what I can say is that the bacon here is horrible

I’m slightly nauseous. I’m annoyed. I want to be held

it’s fucking raining this is fabulous news


hi veterans of evil I bite

like how ike kills beta fish in a slow and painful really horrific death

remedied without really anything that means you will die


I deserve something and I will make it

it’s beautiful and incredibly sad that the aesthetic is so white

everything that is cray crap


I am a part of a tanning competition

gentle crazy

errors create the story as much as triumph


my strengths are my most genuine qualities

sometimes these are my flaws

I’m in my panties texting this to the cemetery


a new country after sex months

maybe I should just take off more clothes

we would all fall


if only everyone was at my dance party

have you seen a flock of eagles

warmbend on shuffle


I have too much crap in my purse

bright blue barrel

I wonder if he heard my music


the problem is that my tattoos are missy matcha

this is what the narrator tells you as she sits next to you in the van

boxing is quite seductive


I walked to the chinese girl for this


making the finely dressed gentleman next to me very uncomfortable


I have a single shin splint

I really need music. mtvchina is just not the same

she is not sure if she completely agrees


stained glass medallions wired to the eves of a chain linked fence

3.24.14 013


I guess I’m not really supposed to have sex or go swimming

I just don’t like to miss people I have a very difficult time with the emotion

this has been intellectually exhausted

I cannot start from the beginning


I want to trust someone so that I can break down my fucking brain

to be chill

some do not agree with my approach they are not me and well

their lives will go on


I just need trust now

and everything

will be chill

I also want to be a part of a team that cares about each other


which is my main goal

and why I’m sad really very much more sad

than I originally thought even though everyone else knew


3.24.14 010


you are dreaming of recording a conversation . why I found the soft spots . why I saw the soft spots . why I drew the flower on my back and he made it bleed  . better than the chromosomal laboratory of phone sex

I think the lawyers in my company are dreaming about burying the soft spots of sound . I had talks with all of them around a circular table and we took turns shading the stalks

the driest of red juice loses the heritage of my god I’m hungry . I’m gonna get a flower . when a kiss becomes further to the first than the last bite of lip

you listened to how she abandoned the hero .  the sweet smelling palindromes of white records playing satchels of lilies . how it happened . this ghost thing .  lcd brained on a tightrope

3.14.14 001

dear brother

dear brother,

I am so thankful for your reply. And that you are okay to the quality of a person. I think that you are right. About the unraveled part. I paid off my loan baby. Plastic Andalusian plastic houses. Laughing as you peed yourself on the broken fibers of the carpet attic. The couple was as sweet as the etiquette. I will encourage to donate those grace, rawboned fallen, bluen thinkings. Her chin skin peels along the edges of her cheek into purple curtains with diamond veined tracks. As easy as French horns wearing reddish pigtails listening to old school scratchy punk late in parking lots glowing with the wings of fresh termites. Like the long haired ghost that smells of organic. Eucalyptus mint shampoo soft knocks behind my bedroom walls. Her best friends melt into splintered LCD screen fumes of a high suspension bridge. The overdose is simple. Or was it the noose in the cupboard linked to my triangular key.  Musicians wind quality into a person. It’s great to hear personally from you, and I am happy, so thankful really, that I could help you lift those weights I imagined to be people fucking above me. The sociological question runs into accusations and the respective responsibility of flipping someone off adoringly, for their alarm.

the best to you,


my horse died today

The bar was slammed, shouting into a dark agreement: “this is the atmosphere”.

The show: Vagina Monologues performed by Bangkok Rising, an up n growing volunteer organization aiming to raise awareness and promote advocacy to end violence against women and children across a myriad of cultures, values, beliefs, and experience.

Vagina Monologues is a play written by Eve Ensler. Eve Ensler created the play based off of real interviews with women and the relationships they have with their bodies. This global non-profit movement promotes the international stage of the play as it esteems the voracious, the shame, the aggression, the wisdom, the liberation, the tenderness, the laughter, the ugliness and beauty, of the encompass; a woman’s experience of her body.

The venue: Checkinn 99, is a cabaret club and nightclub located off of Sukhumvit in Bangkok, Thailand. Both parties donated all funds from the performances to In Search of Sanuk: a local non-profit organization that reinvigorates survivors of torture and trauma.

We retain meaning. We are not all survivors. Some of us are.

The play opens with a series of voices, most prominently rising towards justice, when “the story is told,” and the “law is a living and breathing thing”. I witnessed both performances and each was alternatively significant. The first show I could not stop my loud guttural laugh. As I ingested my second watch, I listened to the monologue “Water Village,” a story based off of female genital mutilation, and the internalization of emotional scars forced me to leave.

7-10 people in Thailand agree that abuse is a permissible action. 3-4 women in the United States are abused in some manner during their lifetime. I left the building. I came home. I drank. I left for morning to get breakfast with a friend. I left my purse with my friend. I blacked out and woke up in the lobby of a Thailand police station crying as I asked them to take me home.

“Are you sure this is who you are?” They kept asking me, laughing. The police chief drove me home on his new classy private white motorbike. I remember the folks giving me a tour of the station. I do not know if this was real.

I went to a punk show the next night. I spiked my friend’s hair for three hours. I jumped in the mosh pit. I fell down. I was picked up. Many times. I sat outside and someone kicked me in my back. I made out with a someone. I spent the night with a someone. I wondered what they hell was going on and where I was going to move.

I went to work, I did laundry, I thought about how reprogramming the after effects of trauma are instrumental connections to the movement of one’s own multiple characters.

Today my mother emailed me to let me know that my horse died. Her mother’s name was Saturday Sunday. She died on my Sunday and her Saturday. The best confluence of moments happened in forgiveness.

I am a survivor. It is the year of the lunar horse.



my horse died today

no man should be that adorably ridiculous

I’ll do some grading

I’m fucking tired man and super super bored, wishing that guacamole was my universe right about now


just thinking about operating .

and bushy .

pheromones . and language .

and something to brush skin .


the best confluence of moments happen in forgiveness

my horse died today


operating the room of her light to preserve in us a gallon more than pores

a name is what you need to die


he needs someone to circle his circles

you are trying to remember the telephone in a sensible manner

a girl watching is mouth


the best confluence of moments happen in forgiveness

if feathers could spasm


the best confluence of moments happen in forgiveness

my horse died today

my horse

died today