hobart logo

May 28, 2018 Poetry

3 Poems

gin hart

3 Poems photo

the butthole of the apple was also its flower

chew on that witya brainteeth! i am enjoying 
inhaling a cigarette cloud
thru my bantamweight n95

wild language
me a veer
straight up into me
straight up like a gift

craved carved wooden
honeycrash, i motherfucking fly
bless myhandss 
bless my eyes i've
           been trying to die 
                   each day not to die


i kept cool in the shade of my body
well at least, oh, some of the time



τόπος (“place”)

there si uh mothball in my mouth is a ball 
of fuzz, king 
cobra – my grendel blood, oh! my bigbad hands, heavy enough to 
become a lowing thing by heaven,,, by he

krill angel, slutty-studdy, said “life is death w/o change”;:a RAW 49 y.o. made of stacks on stacks on stacks of small fry who have learned to apply cake makeup to then shove cake doughnut holes in the cake hole of the caked face. no the krill angel collective of krills will not tell you the secret of disappearance. krill is a whole brand. krill is an an anarcho-capitalist and a papa. just watched a video of krill diddling a scorpion out of his mouth w/his tongue

damn krill ur a crazy bitch krill 
even horsie-ride, 3x3 dunkin
losin’ money

where is my soul locked? my soul is locked in my soul–give cover for it 
οὐ not εὖ, you dig? it’s perfect because it’s nothing. nothing in or out! :-0 
nope, i don’t believe in the box, but it lives in there

driving made me dizzy
i was up on my box i was shaking 
my pussy in his face i mean everyone's i have never been 
so tall. i did all the fun things at once 

0mg watch 
zero fall
off itself

a perfect place, hey,
what do you think of mutton
chops, hey-hey! angels and small
fry are unsexed!!! coin







too many roses, wow

you've given me

far too many roses




image: gin hart