the truth and other lies

I am a vile man
slanted and treacherous
no lipsticks limericks
nettled and molesting

I am a lying man
you are no soft skin
meat and flesh
fuck dream item

I am a fighting man
eyes tight scowling
not correct
whiskey right

kid

23 millers 8 vicodin the next one couldn't get it done later you hit my pager. you know where i am at. i'm stumbling over to you. i mumble and trip and talk shit on my way past the car wash. the stench of chinese restaurant trash bins i ponder crawling in. your bed again. late at night. wrestle with the back pack straps. filled with blue pills. bottles. white pills. and novels. and bottles. you call me on the pills and the bottles. you tell me i'm bad, and i tell you you're good. you tell me i'm bright, and i turn out the light. we talk about the novels. have you read that. you should. have you read that. it's good. you whisper to me whitman. you whisper to me frost. the hotness of your breathe. more noticed. the street lamp blast. showing me the curves of your body. above me. your hips. your lips. your stomach and breast. the orange from the penitentiary lights attempt to dull your features. yes i'm listening. kiss the the neck. hand in your back. now why you shaking. still got your drawers in my pack. the last time you laid me. you finish like you began. legs shaking. i think this building will collapse. a kiss. and i awake. grab the pack.

words.

stealing strife from the mouth of thieves is not so cumbersome as the addicts edict suggest