don't move

[parch]

on the red line in your underhitch, undercut of the muscles you pull -i run and ramble uncombed and cuddled, i still feel the morning sun and it caresses w/ warm beads of sweat sweet sweet sweat sticky tongue and sticky trip, along the watching place where we waited along the watching place where we saw you booted trucked and strung for heavy hard ons, too many cars crashing crashing. in the drugs and evergreen eyes and in the winter's still we were waiting in the watching place in the place we had our fill. still rushing into me it makes me think you're naked, it makes me think this is shit and dropping flies upon our skin, this is hell and burning intestines... I saw ethan hawke in my dreams and he said it wasn't but who really believes a guy named after a bird? i saw the lights upon the horizon and the clothes dropping off your hips like the moon setting in my my my motivated measure. my hungry jaw trying. my cold one in your face. this is the laughter. no justice. no fairness. just teeth and naked flesh. this is the resistance of the french. asking if you parle vous. but we know you don't. you don't come close to the dose they expect, but i guess we all bail in the end. maybe if they were bitten like us. maybe if they had the fear of our country in their eyes and the street loneliness seeping out their infected poors. oh the lonely of the poor. and woes in piles lips in sores.. these nights so cold and grey. or maybe if we had the vigor of the germans, germs, or even strengthened perms. maybe if we had the night watch of the brittish keeping in the rain. but really - we rain too much, too many tears and scary faces, scary cause we're not beautiful anymore. scary cause we're not young anymore. scary cause we're not bursting w/ sex appeal and adolescent hormones.. don't we enjoy this absence? so the real point is that there isn't a real infection. there isn't a real cure. it's cool ice boiling and it doesn't matter. it's hot sex in your face and it smells today. I'm a penthouse whore and you're my sunday school playground mate so wise up. this isn't love and smiles but it ain't no hard heart hatred. it's real. it looks like a glove and it's coming fast right at your face. don't duck so fast. just don't

move.


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I am my new Religion
I am my non Decision

[ranter]

well well well, parch, coming over to the dark side of prose...this reminds me a lot of what i write and what soiled writes, although better than mine, but at the same time a little harder to understand at all...there is great word choice, although it reminds of something you just wrote to get words put together...is there any real point or underlying message to this, or is it just words put together that sound like they should be together? but, yet still, i wanna read it over a little more and pore out itty tidbits of thoughts and messages within, other than that though, at first glance stares, i liked it.

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[parch]

it is hard to understand cause it is something that i did just write to put words together and i'm glad you noticed ranter. sometimes i run out of stuff to write and so i just write the words as they are in the free flow of my mind.. first word to come to mind is first to come to paper. no direction and sometimes this forces the reader and i to get lost. this isn't a good thing but i find it an interesting way to discover new things i really did want to say. like at the end when the blurbs get smaller and become more pointed, barbed. that's what you get after writing what you don't wanna get. that's how it works. i'm sorry for posting up something that wasn't a complete work but maybe now i can go back and edit it down.. to something direct. something more refined and meaningful. as to coming to the dark side, i actually used to write this way a lot and i just haven't in a while. go back a few pages and you'll see.. maybe it's different now and i didn't see that but i do feel like this is the same jumbled mess w/ underlying push that i used to have. hopefully the push is there. thanks for the reply rant man and maybe you can give me some points as to what 'did' make sense... what did fit.. what did work in the piece.. so i can see what came across to the reader.

thanks

basically.. - just tell me what you saw as important in the piece. you guys are the readers... so it's your understanding in this instance that counts..
it's that whole artist/audience relationship bull again.

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I am my new Religion
I am my non Decision

[ranter]

no no no...do not revise this...leave it meaninful in it being meaningless...its just an open forum to the human psyche...its great how it is...just eh...

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