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"

write a poem about that time we had sex saturday morning it was one of the first days of spring the sky was very blue and the trees were very green your sheets were black and dirty i held them tight in a fist when you flipped me over after you finish my legs are shaking your cum oozes out of me and dries on the inside of my thighs

but my mind is empty where are the day dreams? i watch dirty plastic bags caught in a branch i watch a bird land in the alley across from your window

i fall in love with the windows of the men i sleep with i look and look at this little bit of city they see everyday while they sleep while they shower while they shuffle books and papers and tap on computer keys i count craters in the moon at night and wonder what your neighbors are watching on tv at three in the morning wonder who your neighbors are look at the plants on their kitchen counters the pictures on their walls

"

abject failure: