Friday, April 16, 2004

scrub the semen stains off the lining of
my teacup
spinning round in the
middle
circling an oversized plate,
alice style.
in fact,
go ask her
about spontaneous
wondrous tracers-
to the point of no return.
you come,
and we spend the hours
carelessly
as if we had so many
to drop.
smiling and fancy free,
rich like moviestars
in time instead of dollars,
tipping the busboys
in
seconds for change.
and all those
hours,
spontaneous and undecided
to the point of no return
where we can't decipher
what we've done.
it doesn't matter...
all i know
is that i like the way i feel
when
you leave.
my memory is
of us giggling,
you smiling through so much
eyeliner
and laughing
painfully,
to the point of no return.
and there,
kung-fu
operating
the action-packed plastic
ben stiller monkey,
the tracers must
make
his arms so interesting.
all so...
random-tandom.
my love
for you all
spins round the room,
alice-style,
and you know...
it's to that point of no return.

*bettie* at 3:26 PM