key-laden ladylet

your burlesque poetess(s)

carved a keyhole here

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Read the recommended bones
why don't you love me edward gorey?
locksmithy
297. february 26, 2011 (All ages show-crashing w. myselftheliar on a too-bright day)


Salt-deprived Suburbans parade,
poly-blend Stepford stepmoms loading in
their lil' meat metal angels'
heavy road cases... I'd better murder

to you, Macabre as we pass algebraically
clean thug sneaks averting Satur-day
show eyes from Other mothers'
pilates thighs, mom-jeans' asses,

casket-amps. Eye to the Hef' keyhole much?
Best undress the pubescent proto
-tensions: "Over-hung
from last night. Tired from all the staying

up late I do! RAH RAH sex drugs rug-munching,
rock 'n trolls!" Sunglasses help
almost a decade out of crushing
-ly low high school. Over brunch

bunnies multiply. Many nippled lemmings
leap-limp more than hump boas ragged.
This is our toad in the champagne hole
conversation that couldn't pass through metal show

as polite society. Linebacker girls having their second
-ever menstruation en masse.
On flannel lockdown pea coats'
Trident spittle by pool tables

hiss "SUH-LUT!" as we cross by striped, snorting.
Macabre metal-dances, high-fives prehistorically
gangly boys in bright t-shirts. I pull a muscle in
little goth riding hood. Purple leopard,

polka dots, pinstripes, even mossy bruises'
patterns cannot clash en masse.
Hungry just looking, gazelles who've got to gore
with mascara wand for a boyyy. Want out?

You want orgasm. But we're just old sluts
anyway kicking open the EXIT
startling the moms in khakis' bloody
Marys. "Ta ta! Can't stay to take ALL your virginities!"

Kissing the sound guy with wolf-killing veil?
Now that was just cherries.
Pulling his dunes to me by fistful of hoodie
choke of the man-string-- that was just
good manners.


Stripey by greyflea

week43: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
here are the rest : http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day

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