brooklyn you so cold why

my genitalia shriveled like a quasar

pulsing come in
calling all quasians

broadcasting live from my bathtub
in XM FM handcrank

bubbleless h2

my sex a barely

trying so hard to fart

in water i almost shit
myself (based on a true story

) it’s floral

the culture of one

floating in a creation myth

little paisley little ballerina
frosted mini wheats

please laugh
so hard they come

marching in blue suits
to gargle you into dead space

no bail to post
no throne nor theory to retain you


ate an apple so sweet
today felt like a movie

in which i star
thank you, thank you.

& best supporting actress
goes to gala apple

with casting by trader joe’s
and MTA

special direction
by monsanto

and big props to the wind
tussling my hair

like a lover

in public
all afternoon


I have three
what they call penis (?) / none of substantial size

though my third dickhole is open
wide as a macy’s day parade

i have given myself
back to the earth

spilling kimchi & milk
into mother nature’s dark sternum

(the second one
is shaped like a chicken’s black neck

it’s dank
this life we deprive

our throats of oxygen
the mouth a peephole
and then my one good glottis frying on the sidewalk

a fondness for television’s memory

if you are quiet
you can hear it

the rustling of Pubis Luxurious
oppressive as the gardens of versailles

have you ever been

mouth open / beautiful-so-great
it sickens you

the third
four pixels s t r e a m i n g

moon river in the background
dim as a shadow across bay windows

dreams of dismantling itself

we must chant

resistance is fertile
resistance is fertile
resistance is fertile

hail hydra

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