Hipsters Meatloaf (day 1044)

There’s sun here,
Beaming into my leftover sex eyes.
Wet ground pushing through
My grandmothers heirloom blanket
Floral – diamonds for my pleasure,
Tranquil.

A lover’s legs wrap beyond consciousness,
Creasing my hunger
And playing games with children
Learning how to catch Frisbees,
And hipsters bikes
– Bloody impracticable bikes –
Making criss-crossing lines
Across freshly sprouted spring.

I’m drinking a wild blend of red
Eying patrons eying me…
I’m not annoyed with screaming children,
Just wondering how fun their game really is;
How long fun lasts
Before someones mother has had enough,
Started worrying about what types of spices
To leave out of tonight’s meatloaf
Vegetarian meatloaf,
Hipsters meatloaf.

Pull (day 263)

I called your glass eyes to company
I whispered your hairy ears to deaf

We blared the music loud that night
Our love calls blasted the damped night air
With steam-punk bastard intensity
Foolishness arose, blessed from the soiled sheets

Perhaps the games we played never had a score
But we were tracking, oh yes, we had a tally