class markers for millenials

nothin's good er bad
but thinkin makes it so
there's only interesting
and not interesting
and other people will let you know

(i gotta say ur dang writing and dang self got me through a weirdo time in my life so im doing 4 u a thing the only thing i know how 2 do im making u a lil mixtape for better feelings stay strong james i believe in u okay i'll write ur dang wikipedia article myself)

erry sad baby insists on being a rat, a pile of laundry, a robot, a demon
christ, timmy and alexandra
"the children appear to her to be depressive realists, not idealizing, for the most part, their parents' struggles or modes of survival while at the same time feeling protective of them for their ordinariness of their social humiliation"
pierre lauren hideki leelo buzz
hanging out with garbage

andi'mnotsaying
I AM NOT SAYING
anyone has it harder that anyone else
just that this is new
like a NEW new
that feeling crawling up n up n up
til there's only like three heiresses and a movie star
that aren't flinging themselves against each other to hope something will stick

this     is     all     just    fine
the moving the roaring the calling out
but i don't know what's poison anymore

all i know is this
men so desperately want access to feminity

not your friends, not your drag queens or your good men
or your neither-category-no-need-to-tick-boxes besties
no of course not (though good men, be warned)
i'm talkin the weaving bro flailing past you on halloween
your father when he was in college
the road trip companions once they've reached the secluded cottage

they want it so bad

they want it so bad
they get drunk and put on their friends' skirts
at a house party
and somebody calls them a fag
and they play it up real good and pout and simper
everybody laughs like it's fucking funny

i bet they feel dangerous
they want in on the deal
to feel tall and teetering and animal
to present all wispy hair tendrils and then bear their teeth
i bet they'd want to bleed down their legs permanently
til the skin turns red forever

they laugh like it's fucking funny
and it's not and they know it
don't you always want to become what you're scared of?

mysteries

cresting, creasing into...

like that last moment between waking & sleep

when we remember how to trust...

ghosts scrambling into

recitations: will you still love me when i

disappoint you? will you? will you?

there's somethin shocking about

the newborn (goats!)

that knock-kneed unknowing

fur that is butter-soft, almost-summer-soft

bleating for milk

we older ones:

curds clinging to the 

corners of mouths

(some kind of sour, years turning, 

heat and cycles and thickening)

watchin the little ones battle their mother for her body as she parades away their jaws and sounds lolling i thought their mouths were full of blood except really it's the color, raw freshest red,
tongues that are only three days enchanted by this world. 

cry & beg for hot life running down yr throat while

the stillborn feeds the mud.