about old rollercoaster

it'll burn a hole right through this town.

and all the animals will feel it in their cages,

it'll mix with minerals;

minerals and back bones.

to go home, and reflect,

how they tore this building down

and you ask for more?

it'll pass a century of soil.

icarus will see it,

on his way up past the arrow,

then i'll say

that i understand now,

it is a colour;

these are the people

that i group together.

you pre-curse the letters,

and the postcards that you sent,

well my eyes are open.

sliding your tongue

across the paper

 produces effects;

that resemble weather

then produces weapons,

in the postcards that you sent.

dig a trench with those megaphones,

megaphones and pirates.

everything will change,

when you pull this boat

ashore!

well i need more from you.

some are snakes;

some are poisonous.

you've given up life?

well i give up mine. 

from wheels to motors.

bruised banana.

There was this girl; we used to make love. One day she accidentally picked up my coffee instead of hers, the way she shyly apologized and looked away nervously was strangely seductive. That's how we met, her name was Sheena.

Sheena worked at a fruit shop, which was great; I love mangoes. She showed me how to check the ripeness and what to look for when shopping for fruit. I used what she taught me on her breasts; squeeze gently, you want it to be firm yet yielding. She was always ripe.

It was a Tuesday when she found out she was pregnant. She was packing the bananas when I came in to see her; she was holding a bruised banana and looking down at it with a contagious contempt. That crayola brown banana made me anxious.

"I'm pregnant"

Fucking banana.

"What should we do?"

Sheena threw away the banana. Good riddance.

"I'll go to the doctors tomorrow, see what our options are."

It was a Friday when she told me it was alright. I didn't need to ask.

There was this girl; we used to make love, but now we just fuck.