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#uncle scooter
writelikefools2021 · 13 days ago
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happy birthday - uncle scooter - day 30
now now now more now please less then less last year less next more now less twenty years back less ten years on from now more now more now yes more yes less no now more ease with what is now please with the loss of what was yes more observance of what is still more now it was too late when we took our turn through the curve of the wood too late not to love you i swear though i tried to you took my hand but you said not now it was a moment of now that won’t last but it’s all that i had let that go though let in now though let in now through the cracks of my hips and the slips of my thighs through the squish of my joints through the holes in my heart please more now more douching in reservoirs of my own irrelevancy with the peace and the pulse of nothing else that matters however lacking however past cure more of the only balm there is for now am i essentially intrinsically elementally ruptured agape no ago no of yore wholly intrinsic wholly extrinsic wholly extroverted introversion wholly apposite opposites accommodated withheld and withstood and conciliated it’s all yours now so take it and i’ll keep mine if i take yours you can keep mine if i am now you are then so i am now i am now and you are then
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writelikefools2021 · 15 days ago
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on the eve before it’s over - Uncle Scooter - day 29
i’m ok now. i think. like a still, breathless body, phrases are cold fingers now, intentions are flaccid muscles, meaning is a smaller vein drained of all its blood, love is a stiffening muscle rigidly mortis. a new gravity pulls upon those many thousands of words back and forth between us, and so easy when viewed from this exhumation to see the end in the beginning.
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writelikefools2021 · 16 days ago
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petrichor - Uncle Scooter - day 28
wallowing on two ounces of frangelico rain tapping on air-conditioned dust thinking about how chadwick wasn’t upset by the upset because vanity means   nothing to the dead though it means everything to those of us who need praise   desperately yet have no idea how to receive it no idea how to believe it when it comes and when i said the words aloud today in therapy that i never felt interesting enough to keep your interest how the tears came hot and quick but I know now this hurt isn’t about you anymore if it was ever about you in the first place smell of cleaned pavement smells like possibility smells like starting over smells like being young again and ready this time to be the things i was supposed to be i think somehow i missed some important rite when as a young adult i boxed up all my toys but never gave a single one away
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writelikefools2021 · 17 days ago
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bucket list - Uncle Scooter - day 27
why are the most beautiful, puffy-clouded, blue skied, fat sun days sometimes the hardest? the numbest? the ones crammed the fullest with sad remembrances? why are there days when my individual experience of this collective trauma
 we’re undergoing feels like neither a prison nor a cocoon, but a warm blanket from which i never want to escape? why do people say shit like, “you only get one life” as if it’s supposed to 
- i don’t know - motivate me? and not as if the idea makes me (or them) want to set it all on fire and crawl right back into bed? i was not a sad child. sadness was something that happened to me. but don’t think this all means i don’t love life. don’t think this all means i don’t want to live life. sometimes i think i love it too much, so much so that i can’t bear to part with it, so much so that i can’t bear to take any chances with it, so much so that i can only set it free through clenched fists. no, worry not, dear reader, there’s no need to call the hotline, for i would never end it all. although someone told me once - and it makes perfect sense - that you must be ready to kill yourself to not want to die.
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writelikefools2021 · 18 days ago
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Estuary - Uncle Scooter - day 26
Glistening path of waves, expanding and contracting, stretching the watercourse, cleaving dry lands. Gleaming suspension towers pinning tight, greasy cables, fourteen lanes of traffic, boats in their slips. Lenape ground, tilled by the colonizers’ tools. I hear only birdsong and the long, thin whine of wind; I see only waning sunlight and smoke tendriling from treetops. An expectant child stirs, a nervous mother waits for word. Deathlessness of Now, force of creation detonating, I breathe into presence, edging free, if only for a moment, from the scale of my own grief, from the ravening need of our unrequited love. Here, where tide meets stream, clean from punishment’s bent (be it time’s shadow or my own mind’s whorl), I stand fleetingly at peace, beyond the broken heartedness of all who dream, only to watch their hopes dashed upon the rocks, and carried out to sea.
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writelikefools2021 · 19 days ago
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Memory - Uncle Scooter - day 25
Does the tree feel loss? Like a fragment of its past gone, each time a leaf falls?
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writelikefools2021 · 20 days ago
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Moderna #2 - Uncle Scooter - day 24
a day’s worth of torture of aching and coughing inertia and ague but on the other side a life less alienated with more certainty of touch
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writelikefools2021 · 20 days ago
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the couch of envy - Uncle Scooter - day 23
claw-foot and heavy, a high density resilience
threadbare now with springs of serpentine
pockmarked viridescent, no rest upon its tufted back
once vibrant, yielding, willing to uphold a buoyant vision
now saturnine. separation, dissociation, stills the once
vibratory glissando, then, fixed now, implores me
to sit.
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writelikefools2021 · 22 days ago
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Shotgun gay wedding - Uncle Scooter - day 22
I admit impediments to a marriage of two kinds. Is love still love when at the altar altercation finds? O but shooketh is the ever-fixed Mark, whose legs once spread for every wand’ring lark, to find Tim’s been Love’s fool, his bending sickle’s come passed ‘twixt many a bare cheek, rose-lipped bum, now bending over movers with remove. What heights are known? Whose worth doth it behoove? That what I’ve writ is error needs no proof. Past what you’ve here endured, forgive this poof!
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writelikefools2021 · 23 days ago
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dirtyroulette.com fantasy - Uncle Scooter - day 21
(click) webcam on? (click) internal microphone on? (click) adult website agreement? (click) filter set? - united states
my heart is broken my dick is hard so… i go
(click) pennsylvania no next (click) iowa no (click) illinois no (click) new york! is that you? not your body not your dick (click) florida no (click) - advertisement - (click!!!) new york! too old, too thicc (click) district of columbia no (click) new mexico no (click) - advertisement - (click!!!) california no (click) new york! oh god, that’s definitely not you! (click) virginia (click) north carolina (click) texas (click) (click) (click) (click) (click) (click) (click) (click) (click) new york! pitch black but a shape of movement speckled shadows trees outside the window in the background being blown by a breeze a summer’s evening a cigarette cherry is that you? in the dark? it could be you It might be you i can almost feel the contours of your room the fit of me within it once again
(click)
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writelikefools2021 · 24 days ago
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waiting on a verdict (a cinquain) - Uncle Scooter - day 20
breaths held we’re here again where do we still find hope that this time will be diff’rent than before?
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writelikefools2021 · 25 days ago
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genX - Uncle Scooter - day 19
a thousand bright new odoriferous blooms, a diaspora of diaspores self and cross pollinating, calyx of sepals and carpels of ovules, pistil and stamen, fruiting ovaries of inflorescence! i see you, emergent ecstatic vibration-changing, generating generative engendered genderless generation! you are the revolution, the one we envisioned but lay too fallow, too quiet to fruit, germinated as we were between uprootings, and now sprouting to seed, our dereliction lamented, our pussy-willowed negation within our willful non-tending. but then again, good gardening (I remember someone once saying) is all about preparing the soil. The water, the nutrients, and the fact that things that grow, grow best with a little
space
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writelikefools2021 · 26 days ago
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You Can’t Make an Omelet without Breaking Some Eggs - Uncle Scooter - Day 18
I heard through the grapevine it’s always darkest before the dawn, but every dog has its day throwing caution to the wind, going on a wild goose chase, pulling someone’s leg, biting off more than you can chew by the skin of your teeth straight from the horse’s mouth. Getting a taste of your own medicine, tit for tat (turnabout is fair play), a snowball effect letting the cat out of the bag and killing two birds with one stone (don’t count your chickens before they hatch), adding insult to injury by beating a dead horse (you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink the last straw). Speak of the devil! The elephant in the room,
 playing devil’s advocate, going down in flames, burning bridges,
 like two peas in a pod getting a second wind to run like the wind. Head in the clouds, 
clouds on the horizon, weather the storm but feeling under the weather, caught between a rock and a hard place through thick and thin (no pain, no gain), but don’t judge a book by its cover, it’s a blessing in disguise! Letting someone off the hook is the icing on the cake,                a peice of cake,                giving the befenit of the dubot                at the dorp of a hat                is the bset of btoh woldrs,                for as you sow so slahl you raep

                         na papel a ydapseektehcotdoryawa…
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writelikefools2021 · 27 days ago
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neuroplasticity - Uncle Scooter - day 17
so one time maybe two years ago i was in chicago, and i was downtown on my way somewhere very important - no doubt - and some tricked out, four-door sedan with out-sized off-road tires fastened to its stripped and too-small frame came barreling down the street, music blaring so loud the bass beat seemed to rattle the windows of the skyscrapers above. as the first flickers of friction within me threatened to become a five-alarm blaze throughout my being, i noticed from across the street a young girl, maybe 5 or 6 years old, and she was
D                  A                    N         N           I             G                C
which when i came to think about it, (because retraining can take a lifetime), was really the best response.
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writelikefools2021 · 28 days ago
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Cancel Culture - Uncle Scooter - day 16
How should we then, oh children of the earth, best re-make our world? What sacrifice is in order to appease the dragons and/or appeal to the angels, to make veridical our moonbeam, cloud nine visions? Apocalyptic electric fire reflected in our fluids, itches scratched in rubbled marble alabaster dopamine. Wild cabals of bloodthirsty men, hands chalked and calloused, grasping flintily to self-contempt, again and again throw the adulteress at the feet of him they hope to bait. But preacher said we’re never nearer God than when we play the advocate, and never nearer Satan than when we are the accuser.
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writelikefools2021 · 28 days ago
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traveling the jim crow south - uncle scooter - day 15
in some untaught place within, the child would dread the sight of long shadows on the road, the way late daylight flickered through his father’s visor, quick bursts of waning glow timed with the racing sound of wheels against the pavement. perhaps it was the taut unease now pooling in the marionette lines of his mother’s mouth (after a day’s relaxed diversions), as if the puppeteer, with thick night blurring at the windows’ edges, abruptly let go the strings.
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writelikefools2021 · 29 days ago
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Unfinished - Uncle Scooter - day 14
the quarry rocks black water midnight prickling skin anticipation a dirt path headlights catching misty veils a body that will never be this young again
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writelikefools2021 · a month ago
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The Unrequited - Uncle Scooter - day 13
One night as we lay sleeping in your bed I dreamt you took a sexy polaroid of me and then many years later when you were an old man after we’d lived separate lives and long lost touch with one another (probably because it was too hard for me) you learned of my death and you searched your papers and you found the picture and when you saw it you smiled Your whole being lit up with memory of me
I woke up the next morning and you were taking up the whole bed sprawled in the middle I watched you sleep compiling in my head yet another list of interesting possible things to talk to you about when you woke up
I wanted to tell you about the dream But I didn't
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writelikefools2021 · a month ago
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my successful (?) attempt at haiku - uncle scooter - day 12
Write a travel book? Same Shit, Better Scenery I think I’d name it
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writelikefools2021 · a month ago
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Penis Envy - Uncle Scooter - day 11
You see your body naked in the mirror every day. How I envy you.
The smallish brown nipples, each encircled with fine black hairs, the patch that cleaves the chest, but the torso otherwise sparse, smooth, olive-kissed. Oh, but the legs a follicled forest! Sexy satyr with your sabled mane, curly, lush, pandemic-length, twisted up Buddha-style, like some dreamy prince from a long ago kingdom.   Dark-eyed and stormy, staring down into my humors, both aqueous and vitreous, my legs crossed and thrown over your left shoulder, the easier for you to probe my blossoming depths. My nostrils ecstatically inhaling the reek of your unwashed sheets, your quarantine camp-out, our lockdown love nest, stinking of cum and weed and ass and food and you.
I think about your body now day and night. Unceasingly. This specimen you inhabit day and night. This specimen you sleep with, shower with, eat with, shit with. I think about your jiggling cock as you’d stand naked in the kitchen chopping the vegetables. Your cock that hangs there below a redolent thatch, for you alone to touch and play with at will.
Let me be your mirror, show you what perfection you are in your imperfection. Let you risk self-occupation to an even more criminal degree. Let me help you love your body in a way that you don’t, in a way that you don’t love bodies at all, in a way that’s even half so much as I do.
How I envy you...
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