from across the floor
crowded by dancers
an electric floor
think john travolta
as tony manero
they exchanged looks
first his; a glance
and if not a glance; a gesture
of hyper indifference
an exaggerated stare
then hers; a solemn gaze
and if not solemn
then call it contempt
and then nothing, for an
hour or more
then suddenly in unison
they approached one another
he, in a hopscotch fashion
looking like a poptart
freed from its cage
her, crawling with one foot
in the air
like a dog fixing to piss
him; like a harlem daughter
in a sidewalk show
minus the corn rows
and cool finesse..
then they meet at the center
the music was jammimg;
rock the boat by hues corporation
"I'm mike" he stroked her hair
she swatted his hand
"I'm carol, goodbye!"
and then ten years pass...
mike has children, a wife
three neat boys
and the wife dies
(or we're left to assume)
carol has girls..one two three
two real cute..the other Jan
their father left…
made one right and kept on going
and the carol and mike
on a night like that
(the one I just mentioned)
met at the discotechue
and humped in the bathroom
but it wasn't that fast...
first they danced..
and then they drank
mike had rye and carol had scotch
then mike put his thumb
in carol's ass
at first she got mad
but then she got excited
so she gave mike head
then they humped by a toilet
…and that's the way
they became the BRADY BUNCH
Originally Posted by Stephen_Pearcy
The form of explaining "him, then her" back and forth imitates the manner in which the opening credits explain the story (except the show does her first). The rest of it didn't do much for me, but nice fanfic.
blow me, Cuntplum
VACUUMING THE CRUMBS FROM A CLOBBERED MIND
a spontaneous ode to spontaneous confusion, not open to criticism
He was a right gift to the world
like a good void
decaying to open the future
drowning in the village pool
like afros pumped with plasticine gods
He was pungent/sacred/post-coital angry
and Arthur, because you know too well,
the sorrow & immediately often & after Me,
the pesky "Another"
the one and only true ruse
with its intricate semblance.
yet vastly unknown,
the orb in your doorbell
is alive !
...eating bing cherries
and mocking the knocker
that's nailed to your door
he's spitting the pits in your shoes
why are you shoes on the stoop???????
I don’t care about your shoes..I'm just saying
I am confused..emoted..heinous & lofty!
like taffy nipples
like fraudulent caresses
across typical titties
I'm adorably crafty in the winter
or so they tell me
or like experience slow-drawing
from a snow packed pipe
and billows of dreams to unfurl...
into the ether
particles exploring their inward matters
paths of colors
…..well, not exactly!
& when Specific felt emotional, i danced
that's crafty..winter or not <-- who asked you?!?!
& when Sincerity listened, I moped
in the vapors
there's a cosmic troubadour
longing for meadows
and a slouching anomaly that sleeps
in my haircut
all Me !! <-- not true, the anomaly is Arthur
how right you be! but fuck you too!
stay out of my poem and let me be!
and so They left; uptight & vaguely rational,
on vehicles used for capital punishment
...Chevy Chevettes & Dodge Omnis
AMC Hornets & pinto beans
that's not a car!?!?! <--fuck you I'm hungry
every so often I event
my down responses,
boring the blanket above us;
revealing a Spirit's eye,
blind to its own heritage..below
for Utterance, like responses,
one's relationship fears the only outcome
so that queerity suspends this longing
& the sounds of chimneys
deploying a signal
………..calling for orgy
calling to offer you a new subscription
to the New York Times
to the Dream Association of Free Trade <-- who subscribes to that?
Benjamin Peret…and Mister Rogers
before he died and left us lonely
but your weakness becomes my umbrella
spade that otter! neuter that weasel!
& that some "body up" like emotional computers
like here & abound , cyborgs explore
in backwards fashion, they snake through operas
like overt phantoms - like pendulous erections
and if editors too verbal to replicate gestures
endorse their feelings for silver pencils
a human document is sadly avoided
evaded movements move to "another"
the rollercoaster is now null & void….
what does that mean?
ask Arthur - it's his theory
….but not now. this my poem
the web of uncertainty stretches the plains
buy Eureka buy Eureka!
a vacuum cleaner is a tool of survival
& if we're left to clean up their babka
& if surges of lethargy cavort; urgency shrivels!
a simple emotion undoes the frequency!
cameras in the ether crumble
….like a new rain
like a rain that captures the corruption
in clouds! in eyeballs surrounding
the government mountains!
captures the essence of a dying world
then call on Eureka
1- 800 - WE EUREKA
operators are standing by
the toilet waiting for a splatter
oh diarrhea! oh government luncheons
I'm learning to think like an abstract Moyle
stitch that penis! park that Honda
somebody pinch me…I love my Toyota!
I really do like your writings, Harnk. Haha, in regards to the first, I wish that was how it really went down.
The second feels like I've been watching commercials all day long.
Yeah, what I said was hardly criticism but keep get more defensive.
you're rather transparent, boyo.
Originally Posted by Abel
it'd be easier if you just put your cards on the table, to avoid this exhausting foreplay.