poem collapse triptych

1

Dying stars
they implode under their own weight
becoming nothing
a void destroying
matter
space
other stars

2

Dark stars
we took little insights
and
made it dogma
and called it
love

(in another life
another we
hung the skin
on
its bones
and called it
family)

3

Dead star
I
take advice
from
Danish princes
(and suffer
their
fate?)


poem meticulous analysis

I studied every word
you wrote
afterwards
after words
and saw myself
sawed my self
and divined
divine end
meanings
mean things
(hidden meanings)
in every one
everyone

i studied every word
you wrote
afterwards
and saw myself
and divined
meanings
(hidden meanings)
in every one

little creatures
crawled
in every nook
of every letter
every curve
held a menagerie
that only
i
could see
sucking
the last flavor
from every bone
of your words
i
like some crazed
scavenger
wide eyed
and ravenous

WHAT YOU DESERVE (JEFF)

poem desserts

one

leaf falls

at a time

and with days passing

you are then covered

by the entire

forest

close your eyes and imagine the slow burial of a million tear drops from dying trees as they lament your sleep the eye lashes of robins and the weak breath of the moon

the earth you seek is me

you dont know

what you

deserve

will nature make a man of you yet?

we are

the

beast itself





poem mist

once
in the steam of the jungle
i found the caecilian
an enormous
gorgeous
worm like creature
burrowing into the earth

having lusted for the feel of one
for many a year
i reached down
in great anticipation
of seizing the animal
eyes wild
and panting in a
shallow
beast like breath

however
the will of the animal was too strong
and the viscous coat of slime
on its skin
rendered it
completely resistant to my grasp

no matter
the more force i exerted
the more it slipped into its
subterranean lair
to live a life
i could not comprehend

i was left
in the steam
and the mist of my unrequited lust
alone
and covered
in slime
and sweat
and shame

and
the view
of an endless
hole

nature had an image

for one

brief

flash

Would you fucking die already?!

POEM THINGS I THOUGHT ABOUT SAYING TO YOU

i hope you approve of the new me. i'm so much more now, can't you see that?

i hate you because you didn't love me.

i can't believe i changed my facebook settings because you might see them.

what happened to you? why aren't you attractive anymore? eh, i'd still fuck you just to check it off. done. next.

this isn't a very good poem.

i don't know if i want to admit to you how influential you were on my interests, or if i want to admit to myself that i became interested in those things because i thought it would make you love me or something. well here i am, regardless.

shit, is this complete lack of censoring the expression of what i'm feeling one of the things that drove you away form me.

drove away or pulled away or drifted away?

fuck.

this boy i like has a picture of his cat with a dead dove in its mouth on his blog, and i thought of you when i saw it. except the cat looks like its into it.

you fucked me up on other friendships.

people who stayed have to put up with my fear that they're not coming back. seriously fuck you.

i still wanna fuck boys that look like you did back then. i don't even realize it at first. strangely some of them are latin boys, but yeah a lot of them are asian. you know its like a general quality i guess. yeah, art fag types too.

shit, you probably won't even read this. or my facebook profile. i am such a masochistic fuck.

god, i hope you don't read this.

i think, if i were dying on the side of the road, you probably wouldn't even stop or look over or anything. did i used to know him? nah!

it doesn't matter anyways, that YOU i used to know is dead. i don't know this person. who am i even talking to?

yeah, he's dead.

i loved that kid.


poem another fucking poem for dennis cooper

dennis

lately, i wanna bite people

i wanna bite faggots

i wanna bite pretty boys

i wanna make them bleed

and wreck their delicate asses

fucking break them

i think your influence is having a deleterious effect on me

or maybe its the weather

or maybe its the caffeine

or maybe its the boys who won't love me

fuck, i need some scotch

One More From Robert Sherer

Daddy's Little Fascist

http://www.robertsherer.com/