Poetry Archives Bio

Cliché Manifesto 3.0

January 15, 2008

finds me on the bus
thinking of the sudden dryness
in my mouth
as my mouth fills with
memories and saliva
total recall
sucking on your big toe
fucking you beautifully
a miracle accomplished
by the properties
of divine acrostics
i slide
my hand down the metallic pole
feeling your wetness
in my mouth
and all the other cavities
rejoicing in the
memory of your flesh
as if it were a steak
as if you were a pomegranate
the bus driver announces
are we having fun yet
and i shake back and forth
to the cradle of the broken bed
and broken cables
to genderbending switches
and the self fulfilling prophesy
of the sky
what will keep me
in the world
a sign asks
i will give you all
spread thin on burnt toast
like the time i spread you
again and again
and you
yielded into the mental
up in the clouds somewhere
everything connects suddenly
some figure of clarity
some figure of pelagic plagiat
mutually appreciating the
mutual appreciation of the
mutual appreciation of the
these are some of my core functions
would they be more tolerable as a poem
i am asked
and i say yes
why not
why not shoot in reverse order
why not slip fwitches
waiting for the arrangement to come
even though it will never come
waiting for some other time
in the imaginary cars
of two pee em dissolution
and intense jealousy
when you know the word for something
that will not last
what do i value
i am asked
the eternal latka and matka
convoy ethereal
sodomy charges
and the nineteen eighty seven
ferrari four twelve
do not repeat after me
do not point out discontinuity
do not take advice
to not remember
do not forget
accept typos as an inevtable
part of life
exude steadfast influence
search the recycle bins of the world
for hot little panienki
and still never have enough
so where was i
i am on the bus
licking the metal pole
with my hands
thinking of him
and him
and you
thinking of the flexibility of phrase
and the chord to follow
and the noise to follow
and the fear to follow
thinking of the supersemipermeable membrane
of your skin
and dreams of
white holy jissom
and beerbottles
tomatoes and gasoline
so what do you say
suddenly acceleration is in order
and everyone on the bus
feels something off
in the rhythmic rubbing
no longer
requiring hands
as the seams on the seats
come apart
turning and turning
the underpants melt
off the hot little number
in stockings and skirt
and the texas chainsaw massacre belt
and the double chin
and the vacant stare
and the curious glance
and the double smile
and the briefcase
the suitcase
neither here nor there
and the exquisite corpse
of the nutcase pædophile
to let the feeling pass
makes me slow
tighten my grip
lick my lips