28.3.10

food I ate, kind of.

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We ate at the sushi restaurant my sister works at.

My dad and I drank saki bombs.

gross!

and great.

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I didn’t eat this.

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I wonder if he was really trying to eat the opossum!?

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I don’t know what she is eating.

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Dinner at Bandera’s with Pat and my family.

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Dinner at jack and the box where Steven got in a fight with the guy working the drive-through window.

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He was super pissed.

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Today we had a bar-b-q.

I forgot to take pictures, but I have three hamburgers and some tilapia in the fridge if anyone wants any.

K-bye!

8 comments:

  1. please don't call jenny brew "tranny brew." and please post more on your blog. i love you and want your tender loins, wolf boy

    ReplyDelete
  2. The familiar ways
    The familiar ways
    Seldom runs out
    When you got it on
    The ball like scheduled runs
    Running late for the bus again to work
    Like dawn that most of us sleep through
    Like listening to the TV while writing poetry
    The ladies of the view murmuring
    Something that dose not interest me
    Mysteries seldom burst their
    Balloons into songs of disuse
    But can be drowned as liquefied troubles
    Boozing drinking my trouble away
    Full of myself and ripe to bust
    Into a song about how you did
    Me wrong to leave in the morning
    While my dreams was surging
    Within me driven by run and coke
    And shadows of you left on the floor
    Sleeping peacefully as if there
    Is nothing wrong in the house
    I have heard all the fasten spaces
    Of your secrets mocked in your echoes
    Of silk ties that I throw into
    The Mississippi just to spite me
    They did not sink but flowed on the
    Brunt brown water like dead fishes heading south
    They will reach you in a couple of weeks
    You can pick them up then if you craze them
    Just remember that I bought them for you
    It dose not frighten me to discover
    That your picture on the mantel
    Whisper to me when I am in a cinch
    It is something that I hunger for
    As a hot glance of flesh aches
    Of heart and the long ago gestures
    Of tangled legs folded nakedness
    Of easy nights breathing in each other
    Those days now hunts me when I catch
    A wisp of your scent still lingering
    In the darkness of the closet.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Poem for all the drag queens
    Miss Lucy the crimson nobody of everyone
    Will give you her arms of bandaged smoke
    And green rooms of everything open out
    On the window where the blaze of sudden
    Thoughts is pimped by painters of chairs that sits
    In the nailed down forest of men with
    Owl’s eye winking the watched picture
    Taken by smoke hiding under the bed
    Miss Lucy a while ago I called you to task
    Because everything was lost in the slow walk
    To and fro from here and there where
    The firm blanket of thin air fell
    Over Denver and the thick air of St. Louis
    Climbed the long stairs carrying
    Spider’s web full of white balled
    Eggs white as a crane’s neck
    Of buzzing fir begging for a pray
    Miss Luck your shoulder is holding
    Up the broken rain gone insane
    When no body’s head runs rabbit
    In long rooms purple and wet with young men
    And drag queens in training who
    You mother as den mother to the
    Young men who’s fathers
    Throw them out into the mean
    Horizon of the streets young men
    With stars of bouquets in their eyes just
    This side of blood corner crouched in the hunt
    Of tiny jeweled clouds transitory to its destination
    Of sexual travelers muddied seamless séance
    Of science and regression of transfiguration
    Of the boy into a woman the prince into a queen
    A frog like warm men with doors burnt by
    Bedroom eyes to carry you over the bridge
    Made of discarded skin from medical experience
    Miss Lucy in the room purple with sudden feet
    Locked behind broken needs wet with desires
    Are bandaged with the pended up
    Naked nuns who will never come sexually
    Under the shadows of golden crosses

    ReplyDelete
  4. The night was standing at the bar
    The night was standing at the bar
    As if hitching a ride drunken
    On dreams packed in his jeans
    The night broke its run restlessness
    As growing grass and the edge
    Of beginnings somewhere where
    The light was rushing in a glass
    Of rum and coke
    The night was at the bar where boys
    Feed their needs with alcohol
    Full of drag queen’s tears
    Shed in the men’s room from the penis
    Just inside of a hard suck
    Vengeful as if looking pass
    What was told to the last souls
    Willing to buy you a drink in a change
    For sex packing good luck full of groins
    And rushing blood locked after
    The transitory hustlers
    In the night that went to sleep
    Between your thighs where thoughts
    Of sunshine murder the floating
    Faces that waits in line on the
    Told to shadow divine.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Now that I have gathered
    Now that I have gathered
    Some measure of fame
    Young boys throw themselves
    At me boys still in school
    But I reason that they are
    Not yet in bloom to pluck
    And have them fuck me
    Now that my fame
    Has a name I am caution
    Not to upset the balance
    Of so few boys against
    The straight fellows
    Who are bi-curious
    To learn but you see
    I am only a part time teacher
    In my needs and I find
    Young boys to needy too clinging
    To possess to pose
    Any danger to my reputation.

    ReplyDelete
  6. When the fog came
    When the fog came
    Wading ashore
    Desperate to hide
    All things under its covering
    The hustler who takes checks
    In his sureness and image of himself
    Takes the night off
    I danger myself to the streets
    Perchance to meet my
    Last lover one to keep
    For more then a night
    One who will be there
    In the dawn’s light and break
    That dawn with me like
    Breaking holy bread
    But so far no luck
    Has come my way
    Only the quick fuck
    Of men spirited away
    With the pre dawn only
    A short timer who
    Wants to play
    Fuck the black man
    Sometime I feel lonely
    When I can not hold my own
    And I find myself
    Creeping back home
    Empty handed with nusts full of cum
    Sons groaning in my groin
    Posed to come in wet dreams
    I am a wanderer by nature
    I have been to many places
    Seen many men of danger
    Rough trade snatching at
    The hunger in my eyes
    Dark men of desires
    That creeps like fog
    In their love making
    Dark men like fog
    Creeping like a tune
    That you can not get
    Out of your mind
    Sometimes the night places
    Love me back and sometimes
    They rest between
    My thighs sometimes
    Yes sometimes I find
    The dawn creeping
    Like danger to find the blind
    Slumbering over cocks
    In bloom like seasons of semen
    Creeping on to each other.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I left myself logged in at work. The above is the evildoing of Andy and Peter. Enjoy, nonetheless! This is the real Abby by the way.

    ReplyDelete
  8. My eyes are bleeding.
    Thanks God!

    ReplyDelete