Sunday, November 14, 2010

Typos abound froM my ipod

The introversion is bottomheavy.
Unmasked, the fairy tales drip with mythic scandal and wolfbreath.
The teeth are hollow
poetry injected through hardened poetry
this song is a snakebite.
The scales team up before shuffling off,
a raw balance is peeled from syllabled skin.
It takes such great intuition to find the serpent's throat.
My legs are too overbearing--
forked like a tongue
And I just can't seem to find out where that hissing's comming from.

Advice to young women, and girls working to become them:
Say "thank you." more often,
And in more ways
Than you say that you're sorry.

The holes in my tights run
like rain on Winter's windshield.
This poem is a dollar shoved between my breasts.

my body says
in a single sway of simultaneous motions.
The tingles in my skin have rendered me ridiculous
& my hands are pulling out all of the wrong musics.

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