frivolousthing

[frivolousthing]

Infection

Purple parasite, you overheat, push me away and vomit, you tear and scream, overeat, stained with glorious sin. I'm not afraid of anything, I'm not afraid of your teeth; like lilac, like lavender, black as sky, as sheep take me in your hand please, feed on me, stay with me, and, and-

[frivolousthing]

Granny's House

A sliver of pale light hits my eyes, wide awake in granny’s guest room; the street quiet and lit with long metal necks that loom over and peer into the dusty blinds just to fall across my eyelids. They are alone, in their silence, these tall, weeping phasmids, spilling their cool light into my own lonely, dreaming mind, asking to be a part of me, asking to not be left behind- -in the quiet. The dark sleeping street, with once warm orange windows gone empty, laced with frost, once warm and orange with those opened blinds and handshakes. Now it peers inside, blinking into the grey of my tired eyes, alone and dreaming of me, knowing with the morning sun it dies.

[frivolousthing]

Hampshire

We stopped in front of the old house, hitting the roughened asphalt inside. Infront, 70 cent gas, unleaded, and around the back something I’d stopped to pause at in thought; a hunk of concrete on its side, and a street light that ought to have fallen two decades ago, now. I stared and captured my silly little pictures on camera, then we passed the old house by like a dream.

[frivolousthing]

Speckles

Warm syrup inside, inside, filling me whole inside, relief relieves me now when I'm no longer denied. Warm, soft, and so so saccharin, sugar speckles your cheek. Run and play in my veins sweet laugher makes me so weak. My mind leaps, and it goes, goes, now a whisper it goes, silly, free, with folly I think, now know it shows. And will you stay with me here? Anywhere, we're going anywhere as long as your saccharin is still showing.

[frivolousthing]

Oxytocin Poisoning

I am wrong to feel so happy, heart thrumming with joy, incorrect connections are pink gumdrop-cloy. I will never hurt you, promises made, I think enough distance is there to ignore a nagging link. Only, sit and talk with me, laugh and play and cry, spend hours and days- I mute my mic and sigh.

[frivolousthing]

Othering

I can not understand you your big emotions your jokes, your anger or your dying devotions to what I already left behind. I turn to the others, to their reservation, their calm, their smallness or loud assertions, but then they say: “I can not understand you.”

[frivolousthing]

Generational

Alone here amid many voices; don’t look down, don’t see me. Looking up and waiting I am nauseous on the sea, pretty in pink and baiting someone to reach down.

Now, little voices surround me, little hands poke petals. Resting before the mirror in custom pinstripe metals I see us clearer, just listening to you talk.

[frivolousthing]

Fools

At dawn I thought to settle by the flourishing light of day, I'll Stuff You In My Chest, he said, and true of any fae, they laugh We Only Jest.

Envelop innards, red blue gold wrapped in satin plastic Back, Back, Further Still, hands unsteady sweat orgastic Further, Now, soft and shrill.

He rests and sets along a line by the star-ceilings at night, I'll Keep You Here Daydream, he said, and took a knowing bite, Stay, Play And Cry And Scream.

We rise and fall two and one an acrobat turns, pacing Don't You Mean To Leave, they say, steady eyes blazing Fools' Fealty You Believe?

I do, I reply, really honestly do believe your beaming teeth. Stuff me in your chest, I say, and hold me there beneath in trembling alloy, dying day.

[frivolousthing]

trash

put painted trash on the wall and it is art and we gather around it and say thousand, two thousand, one million scroll up and see painted trash and painted trash and painted trash and and and and we say five dollars please but you get three because the app took its share of your labor and the state took its share of your labor so now you just share your trash for free

[frivolousthing]

Blood

The scent of my blood reminds me of ink stains, coats up to the knuckle and fills the heart with nostalgia. Like black on my finger tip it swivels and crooks rocks like a ship my blood reminds of darker quieter times. Fills the imagination with massive warframes. It makes my brain blind with white light despite the dark despite the scent that fills my heart with nostalgia

[frivolousthing]

autocannibalism

beauty in the blood beneath me the red beaker is dripping poetry, tiny things as tiny cells that cry in red blood bleeding tears of votary chew down your own leg for it a dark thought you see and hear red thing red teeth red paws you bleed do you bleed sincere so try again now you can try one paw down face clean red beaker red fur red dirt empty it be seen

[frivolousthing]

In a Dream

I saw betwixt Heaven and Earth a shimmering wash of purple light, glittering, an ocean, lonely in my eye like night. I herd my cattledog down the stairs and each step I look up, up towards it, that mournful shimmering glimmering light. Each glance fills me and I silently cry in wonder and wonder which thing looks down, too, upon my lonely sight.

What thing looks down at my feet awash in warm, heady rain, at the crystal drops caught against strawberry moon? And what thing thinks of me in wonder and wonders if it shall meet me soon? But I will die a thousand moons before, somewhere, we greet the shimmering wash of purple light together some listless alien afternoon.

[frivolousthing]

https://www.

Another bare faced baby born on the web, his father in bootstraps, mother on her horse. We search for even a freckle of glitter on his pale cheek; we search for some truth in “authenticity.”

Every silicon-CEO’s baby mirrors the others, all dashing in blue white grey; dark mode LEDs, there’s a time limit, a character limit for you to dot out your emotional ABCs.

Every two inches of screen buy pots and pans- coming soon in April- every ten minutes sponsored- look there, a new wave coming starboard, a rush of thoughts on repeat from that blue boy.

Bare faced baby born yesterday, again and again dying and rising as a cold sun, son of boots and mares. And under the skins- the numbing layers- these mirrors are all the same.

[frivolousthing]

Forever

We are all looking for yesterday, in our friends, our pets, ourselves; dying to breathe again how we breathed when we were ten, and then feel how we felt, smell carpet again, burn and melt into it in a movie marathon. We are all looking for yesterday, sparkling signs, puppies at play. Hard drives stuffed up with hundreds, thousands of pure decades, sitting in a closet shadow under burning memory. We are all looking for yesterday, in the touch of skin, a sound, an image, anyone and anything to tether us there, to lost worlds made of seconds. But we will go on, searching, seeing, and know that it’s okay. We will only be looking forever.

[frivolousthing]

We nod

Behold, God's eyes lay open on the face of the upholstery, black in a three-tooth crown. Laiden ash, white pearl rosary clutched in soft shaking hands.

The carpet's dust, made of man, blinks away from the tear of God. This isn't right she cries We say we know, we nod, we nod; It's n

[frivolousthing]

Ĉiela Korpo

Millennia dim in his eyes, Twice now, once before me, and once after when I felt it, distant, wet and cold like the sea.

He moved to my side subconsciously and questioned it all. It wasn't possible, but there we were, a spreading warmth growing small in the back of my mind like a star.

He'd said: you can't understand what it's like to lose. But I think I can, now, I can, as he calms me in five-second twos, because I can feel him and his pain.

That distant sea comes closer. But for him, it's exponential, I lean against him and whisper in desperation I might warm him too; in desperation of closure.

[frivolousthing]

The Trail

He peed here- here- and then here- then the rain came to make the forest clean, the asphalt, the rocks, the drooping leaves, washed scrubbed and made bright green My dog was wiped away from the wet wood his soft puppy paws had toddled down the tall aching pines and sopping oaks; his face and tail and buried fur brown have all been made new among heavy clouds. Strange dogs can no longer smell him when they walk down that clean path. But I, stopping there, can hear him bark again.