260.
x january 20, 2011 (was the slumber party ORG, cloud club)
You find yourself describing inappro'
Oscar'llustrations: "hard labour" meets infomercials
on treadmills-- meets making fun of Oscar the Grouch
in a homeless-phobic, post-structuralist?
--polite society. Even the news
says Fixadent will forget their studies
that zinc causes irreversible hemming,
hawwing about muscle problems and
great breath! Hot down the wrong deity's neck,
yours. Frigid and frightfully bohemian
garrets are the topic of mild scallions-- oh, that's
the band's name? --Conversation
you can usually avoid by evolving
your fanbase to fund Frenchican kick-lines.
We're waking Toulouse from a merlot ocean
outside time-- but only with your help.
Lipstick and flannel, bonfirestories and bubbles in
every corner stacked with dead Kurzweils.
We admire slippers with skulls, pray
the snow emergency won't--
it's too cold to be cool with drawing
or worrying about meditating at an impound lot.
Tony Leva, upright bassist we adore, photographed by Justin Moore. champers bein' chugged above brought to the soiree by yours truly. i only feel comfortable wanderin cloud club with a wet bottle in my hand (to pass around) with much love/carelessness.
week38: 1, 2, 3
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
http://poetesss.tumblr.com/PAD (crazy behind on archives. 'pologies poetesss.tumblr readers)
You find yourself describing inappro'
Oscar'llustrations: "hard labour" meets infomercials
on treadmills-- meets making fun of Oscar the Grouch
in a homeless-phobic, post-structuralist?
--polite society. Even the news
says Fixadent will forget their studies
that zinc causes irreversible hemming,
hawwing about muscle problems and
great breath! Hot down the wrong deity's neck,
yours. Frigid and frightfully bohemian
garrets are the topic of mild scallions-- oh, that's
the band's name? --Conversation
you can usually avoid by evolving
your fanbase to fund Frenchican kick-lines.
We're waking Toulouse from a merlot ocean
outside time-- but only with your help.
Lipstick and flannel, bonfirestories and bubbles in
every corner stacked with dead Kurzweils.
We admire slippers with skulls, pray
the snow emergency won't--
it's too cold to be cool with drawing
or worrying about meditating at an impound lot.
Tony Leva, upright bassist we adore, photographed by Justin Moore. champers bein' chugged above brought to the soiree by yours truly. i only feel comfortable wanderin cloud club with a wet bottle in my hand (to pass around) with much love/carelessness.
week38: 1, 2, 3
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
http://poetesss.tumblr.com/PAD (crazy behind on archives. 'pologies poetesss.tumblr readers)