every man has come out of a woman

the nape of your neck

sometimes

screams

sex

but someone answers.

taboo!

what the fuck?

please, go home;

put on a turtleneck and -

read 

many

books.

a feeble intern is barren by habit

maybe it's the weather

or maybe it's hormones,

but it's definitely time to go to Canada.

you should always wear a helmet

if you don't know what you're doing,

especially in purgatory where teachers mess with minds.

you know when you just get that feeling

that this is the time you'll get caught,

well, make sure you remember to release your emergency brake.

perhaps we should go outside

and walk around barefoot until our soles blister

to match those inside.

it hurts so much to sit on hard chairs

the body aches with boredom,

and the hint at impending esophageal cancer. 

is it messed up to believe that you're certain you will be

the token sick friend,

of whom everyone asks, why her?

do you wish it or do you believe it,

because there is a difference -

there is a very, very, very vast difference.

i am working on a series

i am working on a series

the makings of it are sloshing in between my ears

lapping upon the ankles of two wide-stance piers

swirling through seashells at both ends

held up to my face by my honest friends 

who understand what moves me,

& what swirls around in between 

my ears. against the seashells in your hands on my face -

listen closely, you can here the ocean from hear

if you press

but you cannot taste an ocean's salty tear 

unless 

you blink a gentle wave upon your cheek, 

let roll a damp trail, 

taste the first word on your tongue,

and turn it into an entire summer series.