Burning sensation

If you were any closer to me, we would have to get married.

Tumble Weeds

mmm lord if i didn’t have no obligation
i’d sit and stare all day and night juz like i do now.
when that worktime Time comes, i seyz, aw hell.
gotta make a livin’, lord, i seyz mind as well.
words words words words they mean nothin
wear my hat?

On Faith

We were just chilling and smoking on the rooftop garden of Hugo’s skyrise apartment complex. Philip was my lover and he was elegant and perched on the railing like a fearless squirrel. I was so in the moment with everyone and the air was brisk and everything that everyone said was just so funny. I can’t remember what we were talking about, but Philip yelled “Wolfe Biltzer!” and started laughing uncontrollably and lost his balance. We saw a quick, naked fear spread across his face an instant before disappearing back-first into what we could not accept. Just like that, he died on the corner of Franklin street and Lover’s Lane.

I cannot stop extending experiences into the potential future. Every moment is colored with frightening possibilities. Instances of ecstasy seem fated to end in death. I am afraid to laugh. One minute, I’m laughing, the next minute…who knows? Anything can happen. I don’t want to go up high and I don’t want to go outside. I sometimes hold my pee for days, afraid that the weight of my body on the toilet might send the floor collapsing from under me.

Saqueeb is my therapist. He is giving me exposure therapy and trying to get me to pee upstairs again. In these moments, I must sit with my discomfort and notice that nothing bad is happening. But it still requires me to take a leap of faith, which I cannot do. So much of life is lived according to assumptions that are grounded on nothing but faith. How do I know that the floor won’t collapse from under me? How do I trust that conclusion in a world where anything can happen? How do I know that I won’t die with my pants around my ankles and a turd half-way out of my ass? Saqueeb puts his finger against my lips and says shhh. I kiss his finger. He slides his finger into my mouth and I suck on it and watch his crotch rise. I hope that his heart isn’t beating too fast. He says, “lets go upstairs”, and I say no, lets stay down here.

Advanced Finger

I am so tired.
My eyes are melting in my skull.
I think I said, “To each his own” to the fat lady I found in the bushes just now.
That turned out to be me anyway though. I was the chubby lady in the bushes.
I WAS THE CHUBBY LADY IN THE BUSHES.
I cannot stress that enough.

My phone rings. I can’t answer because my Public Enemy ring tone is far to dope to interrupt. A man with an ascot wiggles his shoulders to the music as he lights his cig. He misses, and ends up setting his eyebrows a flame instead. This might be the best thing I’ve ever seen, so I watch him struggle. His entire body is being eaten by the flames at this point. I extend my arm, but then I remember that my sensual body lotion makes me an extreme fire hazard and I continue to watch the man. He is completely engulfed now. My body starts to tingle. I look down and notice that I have an erection.
I should leave at this point, but I don’t. A woman notices the burning gentleman and rushes over to save him. She starts taking off her jacket and beating the man with it. The flames are not subsiding. She notices me watching. She notices my erection. She slowly stops trying to be a hero.
After a few moments of watching me watch her, she starts to remove her clothing and throw it on the flaming man, who is lying lifeless on the curb. Her naked body moves toward mine and my erection grows bigger. I’m not sure how this is even possible. It grows bigger and bigger and sort of reaches for the naked woman. Our bodies start to entwine. The friction, the tension, the heat. We are swallowed by the flames that took the stranger just moments earlier. Our faces melt together and our limbs disintegrate. All that is left of us is what we have in this very moment, my darling.

Chaotic Soul

I want to tell Rudolph how much of a bastard he is, but he just waddles from cupboard to fridge, cupboard to fridge…bitch doesn’t even look at me. Once I get this job at the burger joint, man, I’M OUT. I am 18 years old and I should be having sex in lots and lots of different positions right now, not getting my heart broken by compulsive-eating fucks. The thing is, when I’m mad at Rudolph I write my best songs. And, he’s a record producer. So. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life right now.

Simple Things

Last night, I dreamt that I was leading a group of loved ones into one of those outdoor garden mazes. But when I looked behind me, the loved ones were gone and I was all alone. I was lost and I kept on trying to find my way back but I ended up by some train tracks. A train was choo-chooing in the distance and when I looked up, an airplane was skywriting “DEAR SATAN, …” and then I threw myself unto the tracks and woke up and rolled over and Snoop Dogg was sleeping right next me and he sat up and said “Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay” and it was my birthday and he said “Welcome to tha Earf, Bitch” and then the music started blasting and the lights were flashing and the bass was pumpin’ and all these biddies walked in wearin’ little thangs and I jumped up and said, man, if this is still a dream, I don’t wanna wake up! and then I wrote this song and it went something like this:

Take time to love your mutha
Take time to love your fatha
Take time to love your brotha
Take time to love your sista
Take time to love
your mista
your wrista
slappin’ across that ass
PRAISE JESUS.

Bouncy Castle

Bouncy bouncy
Oh such a good time
Bouncy bouncy
Shoes all in a line
Bouncy Bouncy
Everybody somersault
somersault
summer time
Everybody sing along
Bouncy bouncy
Oh such a good time
Bouncy bouncy
white socks slippin’ down
Bouncy bouncy
Stilettos are a no no
Bouncy bouncy
ugh
Bouncy bouncy
ugh
Everytime I bounce I feel I touch the skyyyyyyyyyy

A love poem by Adolf Hitler

I wanna li li li lick you from your head to your toes
and I wanna
move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor
and I wanna ah ah you make it so good I don’t wanna leave
but I got to
let let me know wh what’s your fant-tasy

I wanna get you in the Georgia Dome on the fifty yard line
while the dirty birds kick for t’ree
and if you like in the club we can do it
in the DJ booth or in the back of the VIP
whip cream with cherries,n’ strawberries on top
lick it don’t stop
with the doe lock
don’t knock while the boat rock
We go-bots and robots or they got to wait till the show stop
or how ’bout on the beach with black sand
lick up your thigh then call me the pac man
table top or just give me a lap dance
the rock to the park to the point to the flat land
that man Ludacris (woo) in the public bathroom
or in the back of a classroom
how ever you want it lover lover gonna tap that ass soon
see I cast ‘em and I pass’em get a tight grip and I grasp ‘em
I flash ‘em and out last ‘em
and if ain’t good then I trash ‘em while you stash ‘em
I’ll let ‘em free
and the tell me what they fantasy
like up on the roof roof tell yo boyfriend not to be mad at me

I wanna get you in the bath tub
with the candles lit you give it up till they go out
or we can do it on stage at the Ludacris concert
cause you know it got sold out
or red carpet dick could just roll out
go ‘head ‘n scream you can’t hold out
we can do it in the pouring rain
runnin the train when it’s hot or when its cold out
how ’bout up in the library on top of books
but you can’t be too loud
you wanna make a brother beg for it
give me TLC ’cause you know I be too proud
we can do it in the white house
tryna make them turn the lights out
champagne with my campaign let me do the damn thang
what’s my name, what’s my name, what’s my name
ahh the sauna, jacuzzi in the back row at the movie
You can stratch my back and rule me
You can push me and just pull me
on hay in the middle of the barn (woo) rose pedals on the silk sheets uh
eating fresh fruits sweep yo woman right off her feet

I wanna get you in the back seat windows up
that’s the way you like to fuck
clogged up fog alert rip the pants and rip the shirt
ruff sex make it hurt
in the garden all in the dirt
roll around Georgia brown that’s the way that I like it twerk
legs jerk, over worked, under paid, but don’t be afraid
in the sun or up in the shade
on the top of my Escalade
maybe your girl and my friend can trade
tag team off the ropes on the ocean or in the boat
factories or hundred spokes
what ’bout up in the candy sto’ that chocolate chocolate make it melt
whips and chains handcuffs smack a little bootie up with my belt
scream help play my game
dracula man I’ll get my fangs,
horse backin’ i’ll get my reins
School teacher let me get my brains

hyper sensitive

I rode my bike to work today.
A rusted out piece of shit car stopped at the stop sign on the corner of my street.
I did not have a stop sign.
I rode through.
A fat woman with no teeth stuck her face out of the window of the car and yelled, “GIT OUTTA DA ROAD.”
I yelled back, “GET A JOB.”
You fat fuck.
And that is why I go to college.

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