Congealed Blood

Sitting on the toilet seat...fiddling with the tissue holder... a boulder fell from above.
lovemaking or plain fucking...whatever you name it...moaning and groaning...a boulder fell from above
playing with the engagement ring...wondering...a butterfly shaped diamond one...a boulder fell from above
listening to meaningless mushy songs...thinking of 'ol fucked up love... a boulder fell from above
kneeling down for a prayer...thanking the almighty... ha ha ha... a boulder fell from above
watching the sunrise...the crimson rays spreading their wings...a wake-up stretch... a boulder fell from above
brain ticking... a boulder fell from above

Excerpts from a coversation over stale coffee

sex is so ephemeral re
it jst vanishes...
yes, you can't hold on to it
It has a chewing gum value to it
You chew, chew and chew...as soon as the sweetness is over you'd like to throw it away only for someone else to step on your chewed rubber.

When I was burning with a fever, so high it made my eyes burn and my mind turn lucid yet delirious, I saw a dream. Bundled on the floor of an old desert jeep, I slept half-mad with fever, and with the desert silence howling in my over-sensitive ears. I saw my mother, a woman who claimed to be my mother, selling me to the strains of bedouin music, that which her hips swayed away to.The haunting madness of the music and the bellowing retching out the skin of the desert. I forgot to pin a butterfly, that I had caught. The negotiations continued, in the midst of smoke, the enragingly lingering music, the intoxication, and the rancid belches that I was being pawned against.