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In My Garden Grave

I remember when he buried himself in my garden
Sleeping in the earth
His blue eyes tight shut
he fell into death and woke into rebirth
he was deformed with a cripple back
he was graceful thought, and never lumbered
he had a crippled-sleeping body
but a perfect soul that never slumbered
(in my garden he lay)
in his rotted, soiled garb
I love him, as I lay above the ground
I sang to him as if he could hear the sound
woe came over me as anyone could see
I dug into his moldy grave until
my lips met his in an icy kiss
I said, "I cry no more, for this was meant to be."
(I died, no life I missed)




Untitled

The wind sang a dreary song
and as I stood in it
I began to long for you.....
I went into the town 
looking for your smell
I searched for your heart
but somehow I failed.
Misery enjoys company
so a boy followed me through
and I dreamt that he was you.
Your blues eyes, your dark hair
your sculpted hands 
your Baroque wear
oh how I loved you, and always missed
the sweetness of your smile 
and the tenderness of your kiss.

The Love Letter

I.
And you go out
hoping for a kiss
but you get a kick in the teeth
like some fucking sod-you take it
you are so wrong-in everything you do
you are the biggest mistake
you are useless
when you love too much for your own good
and you think you've made him feel bad
but he thinks only about himself
when will you ever learn
you monstrosity
you-you
he's not going to call you tonite
he's not going to call tomorrow
you are a liar-lying to yourself
of how things should be
so put the needle to your vein-the gun to your head-the razor to the wrist
and put yourself out of your misery
no one is going to help you
you are filth.

II.
You shaved your legs just for him
didn't you?  And put pretty things in you hair
you drown in yourself-helplessly sinking deeper and deeper
you want to cry, but you're dried up inside
mummified and you don't ever want to go home.
Alone.  Your bed was once sacred
now its burning beneath you like a grill.
Wipe off all the make-up, dear
the party threw you out-and you're left
smoking cheap shit on white corpse filters.
So he thinks he's the object of your obsession.
So what.  How could you prove him wrong?
‘Cause you've been thinking about him all day-you can't deny it.
He won't touch you with his BARE hands
and he won't play your childish games
he thinks he's too big of a man for you.

III.
You can barely take care of yourself and you know it
priorities are nothing when you live on the street level.
Float then, six feet in the air if you will
no one wants to touch you anyway.
You've been fucked over and its starting to sting.
Bring it on, you ask so sweetly.
Happiness in misery you believe so much
your face is sticky and you're too lazy to move.
You just scrawl on napkins and bills at restaurants
try to be noticed, but they laugh behind you.
At you.  Sitting on the street, you find it all meaningless
but you never say goodbye to it, why?
Fuck it all, please try to understand.
I am the object of all my hatred
and affection seems to take too much time.

A night at the café.

Talk amongst yourselves
keep the rumor alive
bring on the beer boys
we're on a roll tonight
bitches-they're all here
ready to go home with you
ready to go.
Back to the rat infested tenements
ant-ridden beds
there's blood on the ceiling
from the double suicide upstairs
don't mind us dear
we're as clean as the day we were born
crack babies
we hate to tell the tale
its only a rumor anyway.
we got in touch with our feminine side 
a couple of months ago
we found the experience
quite amusing
we're as straight as arrows
and we have dirty sex-ha-
we're the boys you've been dreaming about
so pretty-so male-ready to go.
Ready to go.




Number Nine

I.
They tell me the sky is falling
but I don't bother to look
they tell me to love myself
that everything is going to be alright.
But I don't believe in deliverance
I run about with my heart on my sleeve
or so my sister says
but I never noticed.
I want everything to go away now
and leave my soul alone.
Like the ink on this page
I'm drying up.
Inside out, backwards, front wards,
its all the same 
when you're alone
like me.

II.
I think I could
I think I will
give myself cancer
oh lord-save my poor crippled mind
i think its spreading
like a plague
for sinners like you,
death comes oh too slowly
i can't breathe this air anymore
so i open the seal
and let the air in
ten fucking storeys
and i fly
down to mother earth
i die.

III.
I've been thinking again
about setting myself on fire
or at least my bed.
Its like listening to depressing music
when you're already depressed
its just numbing you all over
like sex with no meaning to it.
Fire cleanses the sins your
father poured upon you.
I want you to fuck me until my
body bleeds.  
You, the nameless populace
of this rotted world
taketh this child
bastard and soak its bones
in the acid of your minds
it is that, my father poured on me.
No one can save anyone
from the fire in my breasts
the fire in my veins.
The world turneth and i standeth still
I count the lovers I've had on one hand
fuck me till i bleed inside.
And I'll love you forever.

IV.
Ride this pretty pony
ride it into town
i feel nothing so shove it inside
i am so proud of my indifference
to everything & everybody
Everyone is happy that i don't care
so i might as well be dead.
The corpse lying with ashen lips
i roll over with laughter
THEY really think I'm dead!
Screw the plug inside the hole
in my head
self-inflicted piece of art
take me to town
parade my vulnerability
my rotting body
don't drink the blood of the saints
I'm the everlasting keg of shit
drink me, eat me.
This is only my body, boy, not
my heart.
Ride this pretty pony into town.

V.
The faggots are roaming as we speak
but i love them all the same.
Someone once said:
"I'm not prejudice,
I just hate everybody."
Oh how so true
I don't love you
you just love my hair
pubic and all
so you want to touch,
but never feel
I can play that game too
but i always win
so go along little one
i can be the whore for the day
choke on this pornography
called life
I've got my own worries
I'm the pimple that hurts to touch
hurts to pick
but you can't resist to open me
like a flower in your ridiculous garden
i open at night.

VI.
The warm permanence of a man.
Is all a horrible lie
all i am is two breasts and a willing victim
so sing me a lullaby
and take advantage of me
in my innocent sleep
make me a toy
sitting on the edge of the bed
porcelain-dead eyed doll
with breasts
anatomically correct and plastic
roll the covers down, lover
and put me inside
i am your's tonight
a doll with no inhibitions
a doll with dead eyes and
dead dreams
i take no offense to your
crude words, my ears
are molded and full.

VII.
Its time to open our 
little sex shop
turn on all the lights
and receive the willing, 
greedy customers.
Open up the back room
where the bibles are kept.
Behind the velvet curtain
in the dark
like a story half told
there's always more
but in our shop
what you see is what you get
and we're having a special tonight
buy one-get one free
so you can take me.
I am the romantic in a box
full of pain and emotion
i am overpriced and rarely sold.

VIII.
Where have all the lovers gone?
Into the river of blood
like luminescent fish
jumping at the sky
full of lead from the nuclear power
plant down stream
you make me feel clean
like a virgin in a dirty town.
A filthy child in Germany
digging the sludge for a diamond ring.
You smell like the river, but it turns me on.
Maybe soon, I'll even let you kiss me.
Fishy and all, gleaming in the ruddy moonlight
your skin so flawless in the streetlight.

IX.
I waste everything I have
and I'm an ungrateful child
I'll mail a sandwich-half-eaten
to Africa just to ease my mind.
My mother thinks I'm beautiful
and so does the drunk Latino
in the club-I'm not a dyke
but i sure look like one these days.
Sexual preferences are beyond me.
I have a tiny mind.
But i do mind this rotten smell
coming from his lips
fermented beer and maybe
halitosis?
I do mind the secret smiles
on the street
what does it all mean to me?
Nothing, darling, nothing at all.