Thursday, June 28, 2007


you better be beautiful
like a magicians assistant
like a hostage should be
or else I'm gonna just empty you
and leave you back there,
by the dumpster,
where you belong
If that's what it takes
for you to leave false advertisements
in the Personal Ads.
I swear. boy, oh I swear.
You better have legs,
legs down to the ground
that I want to lick up to the base
and you better have tits
that fire hot death over life
or i'm gonna vampire bite your neck
and leave you in the cave
that fills with hungry starfish
and dreamless winter
You calm your eyes are like the "spring"
you better show a spring to my cock
and your ass will have to be tight
I have killed liars before
I can put a paper bag on your face
and on my own too
I want to pull a sorrow
from the bones
of your ghost

by Gary Smith

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Sunday, June 24, 2007

I can make you moan so deeply that instantly the insides of your thighs become moist and sticky
you can indulge in my voice as I read my poetry to a spot on your body of your choice
before I lick my lips and kiss my words off your hips
my tongue gyrates just below your panty line
this is the moment of which you have been fantasizing
you inhale your breaths deeply and exhale your moans discretely
can you feel the heat baby between you and me
your body is full of unlimited sexual knowledge that I beg you to teach me
I want to make every orgasm you experience uncontrollably outrageous
I want to meet your G-spot and taste all you have got
I want you to pull your body closer to me
as you "ooh and ahhhhhh"the sounds I love to hear as I am getting you off
your nipples and your moans are the only thing on your body that I don't want to be soft
as you ride and grind your love onto me I slide my mouth over your breasts as were making love kissing and caressing then I feel your body tighten as our passion heightens
and I follow your climax's trail as we orgasm together we moan over and over again ....
before we go again...
baby I would love to make you moan again

by moskie

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Thursday, June 21, 2007


it was the shattered weaver
and the princess toe
bawling in a neighborhood
not long ago
spinning ancient native
secrets twisting trust
of nightly security
for the ritualistic
classic bed-time manner
bumping ‘round grids
blasting a confusing thump
makes me grateful
for the slip-on love
of zebra special coat
But isn’t it time
to ask the author why
shojo mistresses unite
to cast a salty spell
over liquid breaches.
Twice! More so than that
in a matter of hours
mere minutes of nothingness
gave all my compassion
in a celebrated display
of my literate passions
not just for the art,
though a thought
can tempt the itch,
but for the realness
of fictional realities
and illusionary personas
Yet I have suffered
grieved, love and anticipated
for this moment
sequence upon layers
what’s another sixty days
going upward, even?
worth the wait, boys
all sweet girls know
when the good stuff
is worth the wait

by Kate Green

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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Is this what they want?

she had won many
awards for her poetry and
eventually was
I bought her book and read it,
thinking maybe
if I throw a
bunch of words together,
make up some clever shit,
then I'll get published too.

I'd rather write for the monkeys
in the trees.

by Dylan Elliot

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Saturday, June 16, 2007

My middle school buddy

He was my buddy all though
The elementary and middle school
I always thought that
He was a little bit crazy
He lived with his mom and his whole place looked like mess
Two fat grandmas
No father and
His grandmas
Often fought
Right in the kitchen
I’d witnessed it a few times and
I ended up was thinking
‘How the Hell he could stand it?’
His mother was a Doctor and
There was a huge collection
Of medical books at their place
Anatomical albums, stuff like that
Showing parts of human bodies
Open bellies, brains, dicks and pussies
I hated when
He tried to
Show me something from those atlases
Sometimes I spent an afternoon
At his place and he
Kept pushing those books
Under my nose
‘Hey look, look at this! It’s a pussy, a real woman’s pussy.’
‘Look, here’s a dick. Here’s what’s inside of it, huh?’
I hardly found it amazing, in fact
Those illustrations made me sick
He insisted I should have a good look
The weirdest thing was that
He claimed that
Those pictures turned him on
Once I was hanging around his place
He started to talk about sex as usual then asked
‘How come I’ve never seen your dick, man?
I mean, we know each other
For such a long time and yet
I’ve never seen it.’
‘That’s ‘cause I never showed it to you,’ I said
‘Hey why don’t you show it to me now?’ He said
‘Why don’t you show me yours?’
‘Huh! You know, people pay huge money
To see other people’s sexual organs.’
‘Oh yeah?’
I rummaged in my pocket and handed him
All loose change I had
‘Show me your dick and this is yours,’ – I said.
He lowered his pants but
Just for a moment
Perhaps he was aroused or maybe not
I didn’t have a chance to see it clearly
Not that I was that much interested
He put his pants back on quickly then
We talked about other things finally
I rose to leave when
I noticed that
He forgot to pocket that change
It was still lying where I left it
I collected it
While he wasn’t looking
Put it back into my pocket and left.
‘What the Hell, he’s a cheat,’ I thought
I felt like laughing
Some years later I learned that
This middle school buddy of mine
Became a Doctor himself
A real professional but
The funny thing was that
I’ve never ceased
To think of him as
Some kind of
Weird guy
Perhaps this is why
I distrust all medics ever since.

by Alexander Mikhaylov

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Sunday, June 03, 2007

The light plays tag with the leaves and wind outside,
while somewhere in my home,
DNA rests securely in the voids and no-man's land of
discarded toenails and lost hairs amongst the shag carpet.
People's lives criss-cross each other and intersect
along points in timelines
as they move in and out of each other's immediate field of vision.
Humans are across the street
(I know because I can smell them.),
locked away in the imagined safety of apartments;
eating Taco Bell and watching their favorite T.V. show;
safe from the approaching bed time
and the morning of work that will surely follow.
Above them, people are fucking;
joining together in desperation.
They make animal noises and pass lies to each other through quivering lips,
all the while getting further from what they really seek.
I keep trying.
Concentrating on one thing, and only one.
Everything I have ever done, seen, and heard has prepared me for this moment,
this task of monumental proportions.
I make my play,
and light the fuse that will bring it all to an end.

by Chuck Endsley

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