Jun-if-I-er.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , on November 26, 2017 by JenJuice

Every night I run- I hear that dose out of the heavy-heart erection

Of my emotions that I just resist feeling.

The internal wreckage has a ship wrecked fountain pen

Just waiting to be used and abused

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Here. (is) Her.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , on November 18, 2017 by JenJuice

The south tried to teach me that being pretty…..I had one game.
Money.
Brains don’t matter.
I must be crazy.
I’m good for one thing – To look at.
To touch.
To keep quiet.
But oh, you peasants
Don’t you know
The truth
Isn’t that you were the whitest
In a doctrine
Of the you and I are in.
You caught lessons so old and thin
You never asked why
You felt any of that for.
Just a lousy I told you so
Hope to see you grow
The thought of this misery
Is the next alternative
To the life you were destined for.
Is here.
Mystical

The Untitled. Truth. Sustained.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , on July 27, 2017 by JenJuice

The goal is the job that gets you the most pussy.

But the reward is the sustained orgasm.

The simple answer to a complicated question.blonde

Real shit.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , on July 23, 2017 by JenJuice

rockfordThe Rockford Files and Columbo. A perfect day.

Water(ed).

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , , , on July 18, 2017 by JenJuice

Glass breaks. Rocks splatter. The one burning matter.

My life. Like Water.

Fuck it down. fuck it up

Make her holler.

Show her what you have – to offer.

The destination is me.

Up to date

And satisfied 10 times over.

Where does the time go? I shout at my watch.

And, I remembered I don’t own one

If I had a jewel of existence to model you after

You would be there when I need you.

Better when I want you.

And solid many times over.

Simple letters of the stained martyr.

I reveal. My voice..…my fingertips.

The shards.

I swallow.20170718_203805.png

Pith enough.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , on July 7, 2017 by JenJuice

The pith of the alchemy. Isn’t without you or me.
A filthy deceptive of the global man.
Three dimensions in and going further.
She mounted up.
And…..
And melted through.
Kinda lot a lot of little and and enough.

Mounted up riff and the tainted on clock.
Forgiving the process as I forgive myself.

pith

Identifier is just a word.

Posted in Jencerpts.. with tags , , , , , on June 21, 2017 by JenJuice

He kept yelling at me asking if I know this poet’s name or that poet’s name.
No sir.
I don’t know names.
I just know I write poetry.