otterfreak314's Xanga

uh twelve lines is enough

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 14:19:21 GMT

when we go out i thrill to see the edges of my love letters
spidery against your thighs, winking at me coy
i almost spill my drink into your lap so i can lap it up
i need to rub the letters in, i need to whisper in your eyes
when we dance your neck accelerates me rough around its curve
i lose my balance, feel unnerved, and yeah,
hurry away to fresh air where the g's are less severe
and then your face as you approach, concerned, evokes a little turn
when we kiss it's not a story, it's a lonely lusty chord
it's the spelling of your eyes and the code beneath their words
it's the taste that makes me hungry for your color and your heat
it's the loud sound pounding from the ground into our feet

Monday, February 11, 2008

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 01:04:55 GMT

is it in my head?
the rhythm of your breath (demanding) against my chest?
did you leave some imprint?
a negative?
(quick, now look at a white wall
holy shit it's jesus h.)
or is it real?
did i carry your breath with me?
(what's that word again-
synchronicity?)
maybe something got fuzzy with the quanta
between you and me
mayhaps we're entangled
i wouldn't be surprised
not with your eyes

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Sun, 23 Dec 2007 01:38:48 GMT

folded over the back seat of a limo
shotgun! yelled the bridesmaid and everybody jumped
matching red and black like meg and jack,
three nations instead of (lucky) seven
symmetrical about our peril, gawdy pleather heaven
tacky topless cake,
since the figurine politicks turned out too tricky to figure
what with "traditional" aunty jane and her delicate constitution
fortunately
the bride isn't preggers yet
dad and his fat brothers are havin' fun packin' nonetheless
symmetrical about the cross, three short legs + one long
and that would be the story? the home video for afters?
before keira's tragedy, this hallucinated airport rubbish
without all that we were immune, jet set and well fit
too far up
to think ever too seriously about falling
symmetrical about the harsh wells of gravity
bizarre, said the priest, and he's been to exorcisms
don't drop the rings, we're slipping into each other without them
uncle billy dances with the kids, one on each foot
we're all third wheels

oh good moods

Sat, 14 Jul 2007 21:49:20 GMT

"and all the hospitals and libraries, all the pretty girls, the bright lights, the big city, interstate concrete arteries that can carry me across the country where the people speak the same language as me"

Friday, June 29, 2007

Fri, 29 Jun 2007 23:46:51 GMT

breathe wider now. in the course of your fabric, your fleeting dimensions, your quantum foam that makes me... think these thoughts so unscientific. breathe wider now, for you and i together have laid to rest a decades-old conundrum: it is necessary that we find ourselves broken. not for sin, or death, or morphine drips. we find ourselves broken that our completion may be instinctive. breathe wider, because this day we have proven that love is a four-letter word and that time is one too. where you had hungered before, now the cramp is harsher, as eating a snack will make its lightness so unbearable. breathe wider, because the wrongs and the hurts of the wider world are no match for our arrogant empathy. and when we strap ourselves to the swings, the dynamite and the chorus, the stars will glitter loudly in our lungs and there will be everything for us.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 04:17:38 GMT

m'crane wife m'crane wife

seems like every day i pray to god i'll fall in love the next

Wed, 27 Jun 2007 01:44:03 GMT

rabid to get to the phone, because therein
lies my lovely opiate, my gorgeous reassurance
that all is not well
and that i am not alone in the thick of it
wake up winter-girl, you whose blurry
eyes would meet mine were the distances
less defined and tyrannical--
but then, so far the line makes seem the throaty
breath of closeness, and the paradox paradox
focuses my nose on your
teeth at my ear--strange coordinates for a
strange, illusioned union
which distracts so completely i am now at a loss
for some useless parcel of my tongue to give you
you who are so loud and soft in my thoughts
you who i wake after

Monday, June 25, 2007

Mon, 25 Jun 2007 02:13:05 GMT

in the comfortable beds of the world i have forgotten how to write a poem.
i have reified most unromantically.
i am ennobled cleverness & glorified conceit.
i am little beside a thesaurus with a heart.
archetypes die stereotypes in my arms.
i am funny without content or contentment, an adjective without subject.
i am tragically become a consenting adult.
the night sky is a picture in my scrapbook.
recursion is my philosophy.
i am a reader praying to be read.
colors turn to quantities in my head, mix together and lose their sound.
i am the opposite of schizophrenic.
i believe in love.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Sun, 24 Jun 2007 23:52:37 GMT

so whatever happened to angels?
you sure you wanna know?
yeah.
turns out every day in heaven is the last day of creation.
that's um. that's kinda beautiful.
right, but it means very little intercourse between the spheres, if you catch my drift.
the celestial spheres?
right.
i always thought, y'know, if you go to heaven you've got to be happy.
sure.
and i'd only be happy if i knew everyone i wanted to be there was there.
that makes sense.
and the opposite, everyone i didn't want in wasn't.
ok.
but then, what're the odds that my idea of who should be in and who shouldn't matches up with anybody else's, even among my friends?
i'm starting to see your point.
slim to none- which means it could only be my heaven exclusively.
i see.
and if that's the case, my perfect heaven is probably peopled with spectres, illusions and androids, and not my real friends at all.
but where are your friends really?
they're each all alone surrounded by tricks in their own perfect heaven.
could you even get to them?
i bet i know who could help you.
who?
the devil.
fascinating.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Sat, 23 Jun 2007 03:00:20 GMT

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?...

It's a neighborly day in this beauty wood,
A neighborly day for a beauty.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?...

I've always wanted to have a neighbor just like you.
I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.

So, let's make the most of this beautiful day.
Since we're together we might as well say:
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be my neighbor?
Won't you please,
Won't you please?
Please won't you be my neighbor?

In bed, I mean.