The Groom Stripped Bare(back) / 2017

And the Philharmonics

And the way that nature interacts with your architecture

And that bruise on your gash, gas, gosh-gash

And I wish there was a way to photograph the stars

And to all the fuck buddies:

I would sniff, lick, kiss and worship that bit between your ass and your gender

While you make cyclones with your tongue

 

You said “even Casinos speak French”

While I play your gender like an oh(!)-bow

I’d play all the hits – even the sullen ones –

And touch you like you’re tactile art

Don’t shower/enhance

And donate some money to a stigma charity instead

Uncompromising and unsurprisingly four lines divide the stanza

Perfectly square pockets of light unite and highlight

That place between your balls and your asshole

‘How To Cure Death’

When I die I want to come back as “Kimberley”

Victoria would

 

As we walk, we look up

And we spot two planes in this guy

One is horizontal and the other plain

One for you and one for me

And as the son sets we meet in the middle

And then we die in our sister’s arms

And all over again

You Google it and say “Hi” to the hidden taxi

 

Eventually we learn that all doors aren’t automatic

Ask Emily if you don’t believe

And the best moments, such as:

Looking in the windows of skyscrapers to see

If we can see people fucking

Orange fades to blue right now

As if there were some kind of new media

“Today was the best day of your life” – Thrice

 

Red chairs in your waste land

Noone sat in or on them

But there are people like you six feet under them

Like a love affair with Osiris and Gonne

We exchange quays on the metro

Because getting paid cash to count cash…

There’s something wrong with that

When your cum is like Royal Jelly

And your sense of humour navy blue

And your tears like mustard seeds

And your curtains fully drawn

That’s when your presence disables me

 

Stop

Don’t move

Look up [SLOWLY]

Turn 360 degrees

Count the number of CCTVs you see

Well –

That’s how much I love you

Well –

That’s how much I will love you

Well –

I haven’t met you yet

So close your eyes and open your legs

You’re some mother’s son

And we are all made of it

Dulce et Decorum est to fuck like we hate each other

And hand-jive forever

 

We created it

And we were afraid we were gonna lose it

They came into the world like poets

With nothing but the organist, playing gender.

They call this a mind revolution

And at the end of the eighties everybody came to the same conclusion;

More garage.

20170119_135152_edited
COCK RING / 2017
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BY YOUR SIDE / 2017
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BY YOUR SIDE / 2017
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A LASS / 2017
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A LASS / 2017
20170119_135412
CALL ME (?) / 2017
20170119_135407
CALL ME (?) / 2017
20170119_135335
(I) (N)EED (S)OME (P)LEASE / 2017
20170119_135330
(I) (N)EED (S)OME (P)LEASE / 2017
20170119_135248
BY YOUR SIDE / 2017
20170119_135234
BY YOUR SIDE / 2017
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