Wednesday, June 21, 2017

pictures of euphoria

Trailed her hand through water a blue egg sack bitch and snarl she wanted to say everything in bright shoes tight shorts thrust against the washing machine a cubby for each running sore each raw bone each torn muscle each beg to know what was what and why the fuck did she remain stuck fingering herself awake covered in gliss yelp growl her alert sleek the conversation perfect all she wanted was that empty room him naked and full in the corner her hair in his fist the streets so humid she couldn't breathe. Three times she grunted his name the first a surprise the second in an alley in Chicago the third face down in the Methow Valley with cheat grass springing up crawling along her legs a true fake crime scene where everyone held their breath waiting for seepage and insects. At dinner she pressed the teeth of a fork into her thigh to open the glare monster stored in his holster and don't think it was easy. She's terrified now she's started she won't be able to push the planchette back to NO. Oh god. When she swims too far into the ocean the water becomes a green glass bowl with edges rippled like Christmas candy.

2 Comments:

Blogger 6279 said...

Thank you!
I feel this poetry.switch my brain
I see the wanting need the wanting to scream
Thank you.

June 22, 2017 at 12:57 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

Thank you and thank you and thank you. The primal scream yes. It echoes out here on the island. xo

June 22, 2017 at 1:47 PM  

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