Posted 12:00 AM by Brian McCloskey
AUGUST 2011
Doing everything from lounging to stretching to taking them off. My hat and stockings ended up matching the flowers. When I want someone to look at them and be aroused. Cute boy in pantyhose, who can ask for more? Control a woman's remote control. The moon is growing bigger (young moon). There is something so wonderful about pulling on a pair of tights which you know have been worn and enjoyed by a woman. And tried to get women to engage in sexually explicit conversations about pantyhose. And wait for that little marble squirrel. Though iridescent between hedge and pine. Blown umbrella, arrow reversed in wind. Turns out all the other judges wore black too that day! Now I understand the circles. He looked down from outer space through all the clouds. I am my own God—why shouldn't I be? They hear him at night pouring out the jar of lentils. Or it might be the Bishop of Bermuda disapproving of my night life. Lips moistened, opening to speak. Now truth is the pulse where her tongue used to be. Dig with spoons, or you'll fling one over your shoulder. I strike the king with his scepter. There is dependable rain paving your dubious road. This time the dream allows the building to stand. I do trust your thumbs. You can't imagine the wings. Black tights, there's something about them the longer you wear them the blacker they get. As if looking both ways, my hand in your voice. Hosiery can be enjoyed by everybody. Back out, back up, quagmire, circle. A father learns a certain way to close a door. Chinese horror in a woman's nylon stocking.