Tag: The Lady’s Trim

I am Not Subtle, Nor Charming

The spoon turns red<br />and somewhere in your<br />leftover emotional knapsack<br />the sky looks like I’m<br />running. It's true.<br /><br />And by the time I get to where I’m<br />shooting,<br />I forgot it was her who got me to<br />pull the trigger.<br />So,<br />I keep my face<br />in the light of a match<br />and the dark of a foxhole,<br />remembering how she slutted her way out

I Feed Off of Your Hatred

My favorite rips on me:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Check out Court's fancy-ass scroll-down puller-list of bloggers. None of them have estrogen, except me. And Nick Gaudio. </span><br />-Reader Jess<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />gaudio nutted his pants because he's a faggy ass poet</span><br />-Curtiss<br />

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<p>Losin all the lows,<br />they came up,<br />went up,<br />and kicked the little,<br />torpid brownbag of Habit under the skin—<br />and then, God-willing,<br />the next crawl was a soft thirty<br />away.<br /><br />She scratched her pallid arm and brushed the licorice<br />from her temples,<br />asked him, “Why do you write those<br />happy—those pleasant, modest<br />poems,

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