Archive for category Broken Prose

December 2010

Seeing you come, being me. Let me have it, now, forever.
“Where are you?”
“You are beside me.”
In front of me, naked, as before.
“I’m quite comfortable here”, he said; as he rolled towards me off of the sofa.
Music, it keeps playing, “like a wicked death skipping out,” he said. “Makes me feel, paint me, modern.
“Are you the older one? When can I have you?”
“Wait. Impatience makes me feel like something doesn’t feel right.”
“Call me sometime.”
You want what he has, he has what you want, want what you have, have what you want.
We’re going to music.
“When am I going to see you again?”
In my mouth, watch it come out, the isolation.
Fish, good fish, gold fish, go fish.
No more hamburgers and violence, bacon and eggs, Chinese dentist, bring it back, a time long gone or in the past, I had a longing for the past from the age of two and a half.
“When I become a baby again,” she said. They all say, wait for it.
I don’t want to see you on the sofa, sofa, sofa, bo, bofa, me my mo mofa, sofa, that’s where the girls are, on the sofa.
“I like sex,” he said before he came on the floor, now so does she.
“You have a question about this honey?” He asked.
The Social Network, I’m Still Here, The club district gone, Twilight Zone, from my home, “we can never get away,” she said, “I need the darkness of these city lights.”
Putting on events, what about the cave, you took me there with your stare, “mountains beyond mountains,” she said, “I need the darkness of these city lights, your culture coming through, Disco was influenced by you.
I’m coming over to you, across the sea, across the water, forever.
“Are you coming in or going out?” she asked her.
Coming in or going out, coming in or going out?
“More or less,” she answered, “more or less.”
“I’m moving past the feeling,” he said. “Sometimes I can’t believe it.”
Believe it sometimes, feel it others, others feel it sometimes.
Put logic into your poems.
I like sex. He said.
“Dreams, they come and go,” she said.
What are your dreams?
“To sail the ocean blue, baby I call you, babe I call you, a friend for the melody, harmony, for you, out bad luck, out bad surroundings, across the sea, across the water, forever.”
She uses it too, culturally.
I wouldn’t feel like a whore, if it were you.
“All because of me,” he said.
Not a fantasy.
This is me.
This is my life.
“This is she,” she said.
A psychic wound, I to heal
To heal, take the first step of what you know, this voice is too loud.
“If you want to be healed, whether from a physical malady or a psychic wound, there’s one prerequisite you have to meet: you have to be willing to learn a lesson that your suffering has invited you to study. I would go so far as to say that no one, no matter how skilled a healer, can help cure you until you have taken that first step. So what teaching is it that you would need to explore in order to transform your distress into wisdom?” He asked.
“So don’t you think I am crazy?” She said.
“I close my eyes and dream about changing,” she said. Thank you for helping me.
“Why are you helping me?” He asked.
“Empty the dish washer?”
She could ask him the same thing. “Is this code, it isn’t clear?” He asked.
“I’m a little bit shy,” she said.
What’s that? Symbiotic antibiotic, “You do that?” Altruistic, sambistic, sambistic, ham, sam, “I’m not food,” said the edible woman down the street.
What format is it?
What genre?
What the fuck?
I was lost, but now you found me.
“Why are you helping me?”
I can’t be labelled by you.
Label me. Cassie.
Label me sex
Label me love
Label me boy/girl
Label me he/she
Label me yin/yang
Label me blue
Label me you
Label me do
“I am the fire and you are the sea.”
“I’m so in love with you tonight.”
Space for Rent
In need of space
Space desired
Fill it
Your energy is good
Channel it
Channel 4
Apple core
‘He’s in Hong Kong now; his friend couldn’t live without me.”
“Call me”.
“How do you get more vacation time?”
“In Germany its 6 weeks, 35 hours per week and fish will lower stress and isolation.”
“A fat distressed Mayor, Police and Libraries, Help, these, obituaries.”
Produce me.
Produce you.
Take Lennon you.
Portrait of a marriage.
I wish you could come over
R u playing tonight?
Orbit rm
Tuesday night
“I won’t be back here again,” he said
Lets move there
Can we move there?
Marry me
Marry me
Move me
Clouds moving me forwards
The country side
Let’s go to the river
Pack me up
Strong enough
“Good-bye dark blue angle, I will never let you in,” she said.
Kiss me
Now way Jose
Vampire’s weekend
Holy fuck
“R u a loner?”
“Be home around 6”.
They come to your door with an Enbridge bill. Direct Energy scam you. To all the women out there who have been taken in, throw it in the bin, let me out of my contract.
I quit
This shit
This is shit
Shi t this is
Shit is this
Is this shit?
On my hand?
Want a hand?
Writing with it, “please give me peace,” she begged him.
“I can’t”, he said
So she left
Can you now?
She is so sad he can never be hers
He is so sad she can never be his
Not in the way they want, he should be their godfather
He said, “He asked me because I was there when he was born.”
Too late now
Is it or is this it. This is now.
So is he they’re, their, there god father
Is he theirs?
Is he there?
Is he? They’re
So we can go out
Are we coming in?
Or going out?
Am I coming or going? She said.
Motivation to know Harmony
Same age
Then they can all be together
What about me?
“I have a big family,” he said.
“I don’t want to be left out,” she said
“Lie,” She said.
I can’t lie
So he will be the godfather and what about her? Where will she be? “Marry me,” she said.
“Oh, oh”, he said when he saw it.
Now she’s not moving to England, what about now?
“I didn’t know you were there.”
I didn’t know that to see her face.
He is going to see hr face
Like my mother
Give me a break
Your wife sits inside her house all day and writes
Milk and Honey
I have no milk
I have honey
Love forever
Fragile, weak
Strong, Asshole
Ah 1,2,3,4
Forgive me
All this.

Just trying to figure some things out
Like what?
Puppets and writing
And control
What is constant?
And what form do things take
How do I make money?
And do what I do?
What do I do?
I don’t want a hobby.
I don’t want to be single
I don’t want to be married
“Have a wonderful evenging” he said.
“I like our energy,” he said
“Broken Prose is generally called Prose Poetry, which is acceptable to any of the magazines I know,” he said.

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Something that happened to a friend and I (or not)

More or Less

His face

Hiding behind his hands

Not scary to me

I broke him in

So this is nothing to me

Except fun

No, not really

[A Friend]

Now I can’t write

Another way

Can’t get there from here



Hormones and acne


Only care about your sensuality

That spreads too far

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