Jenny Holzer, Truisms, offset poster, 1978, 17 x 22 in.
(Source: porcelaingrotto, via some-velvet-morning)
POEM
automatic tv sleep timer no more waking up
sweat and some haircuts stuck to the face
re-arrange the furniture for a while while smiling
piano music is data entry bedroom is ballroom
like that one in that movie that one time we fell asleep
how do i have to ask myself to keep it in my pants
sometimes i make up my own ending
GET OFF
knee to needle, necking not: touch some fact
is fiction. he’s cleaning the kitchen; sucking
me off under my eyelids, shut; spark kept
wide open, drool; shedding sweaters, linen, lists of
sexual positions: a body for every beard
chopped straight, and his book coming out in black
lines on my face. woke up
hard, waited to wilt, scrub some of this silk: out! he’s
been foaming at the mouth, some dog to be
bedded, but what’s more: we get off one by
won altercation of spit, rub red: his genitalia as slang, see: he
does what he does as please get off
me. the book on the blankets breaks open, some mosquito
bit all this blood goddamn
(Source: perksofbeingnickywire, via some-velvet-morning)
