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beijomacio.wordpress.com

mulder and scully | tarnation and eudemonia

https://beijomacio.wordpress.com/2014/06/07/mulder-and-scully

Straightforward poems for straightforward people. When we were married. My wife and I. But stare at the sky. They said trust no one. So no one did we trust. We just kept on starin’. Til the sky fell on us. She was 62 inches. Of heart crushed by love,. And fresh latex gloves. I was the crossfire. Of wind foul and fair,. And great 90’s hair. One day, in the car. Driving some place,. She turned to me. With a haunted face. She said what do you seek? I said what have you got? She said where are we going?

beijomacio.wordpress.com

highway 99 | tarnation and eudemonia

https://beijomacio.wordpress.com/2013/04/26/highway-99

Straightforward poems for straightforward people. This here is the story of two brothers,. Jake and Randolf Crewes,. Who thought of themselves as. The last of the independents. They found themselves one day. Holed up in Calaveras County. On the last, gleaming edge. Of the American frontier. Is a low-down hole, good. For nothing but going out. And getting lost in. Kind of place a man can find some. Park a double wide. And cook up some nasty shit. Sudafed, iodine, Sodium Hydroxide. They get it out of Drano.

beijomacio.wordpress.com

darling s, if you are reading this it is because i am already dead | tarnation and eudemonia

https://beijomacio.wordpress.com/2014/01/17/darling-s-if-you-are-reading-this-it-is-because-i-am-already-dead

Straightforward poems for straightforward people. Darling s, if you are reading this it is because i am already dead. Darling s, if you are reading this,. It is because i am already dead. Really dead. not just dead. Like the little thatch of fire. Between your thighs, no –. Dead, as in i was more alive. That that little smoky nook. Darling s, still lovely s. I am deader than a bridge. Across a sullen southern river. That neither you nor i would cross. In the deadness of the night. I rolled and flowed.

beijomacio.wordpress.com

cali super-fragile mystic | tarnation and eudemonia

https://beijomacio.wordpress.com/2013/07/06/cali-super-fragile-mystic

Straightforward poems for straightforward people. Tule fog come up,. Thick and dark for days. It was, like,. All bets to the second act. And ev’rythin’ gone smells. Like earthquakes these days. And sings like a. Or grumbles like a. Low-down coupe de ville. The katy in some. Mr pibb, moxie. Oh, her gorgeous, glorious. Come on, pilgrim! You cotton merchant,. With hands as precise. As blind men’s –. Death’s got a warrant. Oh, but desire is. Can you be for me that woman? My hadacol show healer? With a 2 by 4.

beijomacio.wordpress.com

yonder comes your man | tarnation and eudemonia

https://beijomacio.wordpress.com/2013/11/07/yonder-comes-your-man

Straightforward poems for straightforward people. Yonder comes your man. Yonder comes your man,. He insists you call him captain. Scattering your legs like ninepins. Yonder comes your lover,. Bald head’s sunlit gleam. If you had your druthers. Would you change him up midstream? Time to fix your mojo hand. Yonder comes your man. I know you’re thinking just today. Of a quiet indiscretion. In that land of milk and honey,. Where georgia bill got seven. You can wander up the backwoods from. Who’s the second s...

beijomacio.wordpress.com

dan, you’re a boat | tarnation and eudemonia

https://beijomacio.wordpress.com/2013/08/10/dan-youre-a-boat

Straightforward poems for straightforward people. Dan, you’re a boat. I’m your favourite late night. News and chat show prostitute. And you, the kamikaze pilot. Who packed a parachute. And through that last long, hot and dry. We were faithless electors,. Both busy seeking our poison of choice’s. Or some half-remembered poem. We’d so love to misquote. Together we were three good years of IOUs and. After that, you ask what now are you to me? Dan, you’re a boat. In truth, I am,was, always will be. If y'all ...

delightfulmentalproblem.wordpress.com

Cassie and Dan totally lezz out | My Delightful Mental Problems

https://delightfulmentalproblem.wordpress.com/2012/08/28/cassie-and-dan-totally-lezz-out

My Delightful Mental Problems. August 28, 2012} Cassie and Dan totally lezz out. So Dan and I. Are sitting on the sofa. Of my apartment in. We been talking about boys. And drinkign some 40’s. And Dan says to me –. You wanna make out? So she’s touching me. On the arms and on. And I’m getting, like. Super hot and I’m drawing little circles. On the back of her hand’with my pinky finger. And I think to myself. 8220;I’m totally gonna kiss her”. 8220;take off your top”. 8220;I will if you will”. Can I join in?

delightfulmentalproblem.wordpress.com

Cassie and cramp | My Delightful Mental Problems

https://delightfulmentalproblem.wordpress.com/2013/03/07/cassie-and-cramp

My Delightful Mental Problems. March 7, 2013} Cassie and cramp. Three thrity and I am writhing in bed. And not in the good way. But the bad way, instead. A white hot pain. Slicing my lower leg clean in half. The crushing of a cramp. In my right calf. Why must this happen. I feel so betrayed and bitter. I thought hitting the gym. Was supposed to make you fitter! Cassie @ 7:49 pm [filed under Uncategorized. This is unusual for you. It actually contains a shred of human empathy. March 8, 2013 at 9:24 pm.

delightfulmentalproblem.wordpress.com

Cassie and the Goodbye Look | My Delightful Mental Problems

https://delightfulmentalproblem.wordpress.com/2013/04/12/cassie-and-the-goodbye-look

My Delightful Mental Problems. April 12, 2013} Cassie and the Goodbye Look. She’s packed away her cowboy boots. She’s blonded all her chestnut roots. She’s packed up all her self-help books. Here comes the goodbye look. She’s opened her own account at the hardware store. She’s reading community property law. Been a while since you saw that boy next door. Here comes the goodbye look. The locks are changed, the keys are gone. She’s on the phone from dusk ‘til dawn. Your shit’s all piled up on the lawn.

thepoeticorchard.wordpress.com

Oh, Death? | The Poetic Orchard

https://thepoeticorchard.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/oh-death

A garden of expression, grown among the stones of the Brooklyn streets. The Poet dies. →. November 30, 2012. E eu vou morrer, esta noite. Meu sangue vai espirrar esta rua. Com sua música escarlate. Eu não vou implorar, nem buscar a minha. Para a sorte que eu procurava. Foi essa morte,. Eu vim a este mundo. Atingido por estrelas e me pergunto. Procurei um sonho de amor. Mas há ma amor aqui,. E a minha pátria. A morte, em breve. E transitória para mim. Eu procuro não há vida para além. E um amante sem amor.