Flarf

iii

head lolling like tumbleweed, she woke
with Nazca lines across her back; intricate
pathways raked by the tails of minor

stars falling from lowered ceilings.
pain is derived from the loss of hope,
like the sharp thrill of broken glass

colonizing the genital tract, buddies taking
turns behind a white picket fence, the sticky
smell she knows from overheated dorm rooms

and the knowledge she can be who she wants to be:
power broker super vixen fashionista manga artist
or, perhaps, sitting up by herself, without cushions.

ii

a star team can be a girl’s first major heartbreak:
it’s not that she couldn’t handle the ego bruise (post
puberty fat look, heels propped up on the chairs’ legs
to reduce thigh spread) or the bouts of dry-heaving
in overheated dorm rooms.

after all, she can be who she wants to be: power broker
super vixen fashionista manga artist or back to her
old lolling ways – watching tumbleweeds with eyes
seemingly enlarged by context.

and yes, he did sign a piece of paper backwards, lick it
and stick it to her chest, arranged her raking limbs
like Nazca lines, eventually letting her hold her
legs up while he fucked her.

i.

when she was eight, this was her happy place:

white picket fence,
dog lolling on the mezzanine,
tumbleweed raking the sky.

a lot of it was just teenage bravado:
we gave her food, she took her clothes off.
we put a cable to her mouth, she bled
from every hole like it was something religious.

still, people have to be quiet until they are.
see paragraph 12: you have to make adjustments
to your perceptions – i’ve been stealing my mum’s
lately and they are so warm and comfy to cart around.

we gave her food and she bled, to put it kindly,
flawed. it was something religious; the diversity
of holes made playing unforgettable when firing
flat-shooting loads at typical defensive instances.

when Tallulah was put down, a truculent storm
raged for hours. a lot of it was just teenage bravado:
like pashmina-type wraps, the cover of moral certainty
comes in many flavors, you make adjustments

via a drip, but there doesn’t appear to be a point
of impact. it was something religious: we all know
what happened, but answers can not substitute
for that encounter – it’s basically a feel good thing.