buxim

<hr style="height:2px"> <p style="font-size:36px"> **//BUXIM//** </p> Levi Rubeck 2019 //[[table of contents|TOC]]//

For women with something mad golden budget low like adorable [[Estelle|22]] at her surprise party. Let it bust. Let it day. Let it touch like a sharp berry. This year browse through the jewelry. Don’t miss the [[social phoenix|12]]. [[X|TOC]]

Mickey was fighting gold-plated love, co-starred with Suicide, the first guy on heroin, someone nonjudgmental. The patron saint of cigarettes. This rainy church is still around, says the priest. Hills rise out of the noir like a drag queen arsonist. Spelling a single flop wasn’t bad, but the surgery contributed to my films. Plan the money, the gods, the honor, the ram, his heart of wood. Review a sample rave—a galvanizing embrace of the stakes. The profane mix like a bottled court. [[Rourke’s choice|16]] is easy digs. He’s the Pope of Dogs. He knows history and landed like a fucking wrestler—urk. A decade as dead. Touch the wrestler, the risen flames. On a muggy cross see the skeletal. [[Father|8]], throw down some smoke. The priest says he knows some indelible gossip. Goon cheekbones don’t know the presence of pacts. A robust eagle links to sex. The hunter had seemed stronger than havoc. The audience was hot and freshly shaved, no old all wild. [[X|TOC]]

To escape before a stumble, I lean on lunch. My cat watches me leave furiously hazy. I hedge, I handle, I need underwear, I look for a reasonable voice. Of course, I couldn’t sculpt a scenario that made my skirt roam with accessible eyes. Maybe I paused for the maintenance man. Longish lips dart away. Oh, no no no, you wanted my plump callused hands. You got a sink. You got a wet grind. I’m not seeing lady muscles. Shook a condom onto his moan, now this curiosity, [[an erotica designer|6]]. Coral locks stuffed full with new laurel, lube, lamps, I pick sweet womyn, recycle their fires, then pin-up the pillows and measure a baby snake. We pray while the eerie artists feel small. This civil war between a plague and a dream gained attention by sitting. Men join sides, women act elegantly. [[X|TOC]]

[[Hushed joy. The subject of poverty.|19]] Lucy is rapid and complicated. Between facial tattoos our heroine repeats her shiver. She think, she women. Opposition comes between naps. When a divorcee faces her husband she discovers an audience. The [[guerilla|14]] scholars are woven in taboo, come see. [[X|TOC]]

Bang your hair and duty returns to the modern world. Doubters defend Oldman with a scorched cocktail. The Soviets never saw Lady Macbeth. Nail biters stop the show. We like Eastern translation, it’s a live wire. Dreamy vampires milk the true tale of Lonely Wrist and we’re along for the cameo. Film approaches the phone, TV holds 24 rites, our entertainment with its Vegas roots famously foul. A new Bruce is named Plush Fuss. Flowers in feathers immensely proud, I guess. Plush took it across the back. It was your life. [[You worry about people|4]] but don’t roll, we’re afraid of the sound. I got a doozy. Can you apocalypse? It takes weeks before I kiss the guide. One-handed she writes virgo ravenously. All our adult excerpts are zipless. And the passage about strong passages bothered me. Giggling together, we were an entire lady, awake. Factory in China sprawls. Two teenage girls make money, their power within tradition, they dictate the shots. They work in a room remotely because they would try to corrupt the old factory. The story is eccentric, deteriorating. What cope? Go on grieving and unusual. Thebes mixes a youthful slouch and a key. The hospitalized never really reassure us. We see an indifferent invalid identify with fiction. Tragedy singles out literature, since the process opens up pop culture. Hang in there, [[Mae West|27]]. Dense waves of feminist rebellion familiarize scholarly studies on hellions interested in growing up. Jesus, quit dumping Diane, her small-town memoir is meddlesome even in adulthood. An impressionable young tagalong. God’s fearful narrative preaches both. [[X|TOC]]

Sacrifice [[the royal dentist|24]] named Fortune. He gave the best rodents. When they ran out of food they began to fire at anyone. By that time Brando had speared six moths. Still, [[he was one forehead|26]], all hardships, a kind of Tahiti. Brando returned, blind, to sell the horizon, he vowed to crash into coral. It was the first gang. [[X|TOC]]

Birds born awkward with their mother’s infamy. Open-toe penis- bone planted by target. Breaking up is our plan, you’ll spot the low-level backlash. Time to ruin doomsday by slowly consuming the shock. Give her control. I want you to know when someone is rehashing the aftermath. This text trolls for twin bedding and splits all the powdered-wigs. A romantic woman constantly moves. [[Snooze gun needed to kill|18]]. Remove the screws, open the circuit board, reassemble your ammo, beeps, kill the maniacs. Your wires expose a real bullet. We don’t don’t think any vulnerable bed is in serious jeopardy. Hand-printed men from tread the water between your legs. Rocks make ink for the lion, the gear [[cheerfully demands we grow up|5]]. Just because you plug the pedal into your car, doesn’t mean you start your own rumble. As assurance of a little peek, She-Bot responds to sexy batteries. [[X|TOC]]

When two days before a band of spirit cemented their snowballs, one little snot took in the speed. Storms blow out from a citizen sunset. Your child [[comes fused to your fantasies, he|3]] doesn’t attack the island, but his father buried [[the first Europeans|5]]. [[X|TOC]]

Historically speaking, beheaded by her Irish illness, she could jump to whispers and wails and dash through grunts. Is Wild a girl, then a woman? She gleams to a certain silence, [[executed with an old organ|7]]. Yes, this feels magical, funny, and smart. Sister, date already! Box the bright TV with sage, weave sounds like deep waters. I recall musical territory, steel drums found far out, back to reunite with their blues, with Lady Glitter. Songs are slow dance ladies, kiwi-born, [[lusting for blacktop|17]]. Finally a regular flavor is the front woman, her lyrics teeter on low magic. You’ve just stepped slow and steady. [[X|TOC]]

[[Queens died for tribal drumbeats|10]]. Their artists whisper “hide them well, these innocent vocals, regardless of synth-pop eagles: a team of boys, fear and poseurs.” Harmonies shrouded in azure sweetness, honey inspires urban students to keep things manual. [[Fine gentleman, the smoothest|16]] mash is used syrup. Your bourbon came from a buzz-killing process. [[X|TOC]]

Holy clay is heaped over a fine shoulder—aim for pecs but save some fire. Smooth rookies shoot lead; don’t act like a rookie. Traps are a semicircle loaded with your girlfriend. You yell “pull,” a second eye remains shut, if you’re on earmuffs, you’ll be resistant to art, no one will think about it. [[The first man to walk|9]] carved a vocabulary. It was he who informed all children about art. Icons of a foxx, wise on going homeless, fire convincing rays. To play violin I put a gap in my big piano key, I fucked my finger on push-ups, I refresh myself. This got a lot of heat. You shouldn’t joke about a great joke—so stone me! Hit the blanks. Your body don’t know America. If I wasn’t Prince I would love to play Prince, in persona. Bishop sips a glass of wine. My sister never said “[[it’s the same today|4]]. Every little thing is coming soon.” [[X|TOC]]

Ask the weapon one galactic question: who invented history? A kid copies some soldiers, after radar expands constantly into the universe expanding, galaxies expanded from two dimensions. Human rib, primate tongue, and butter, anyone? Like crack made to measure your men by the quarter- ton. Chemical-free, you order in bulk. Give your guy, an upwardly gentleman, the leather of a new lighter. [[It’ll whip the nuances|25]] like a belt. People know complex aromas can’t protect them, but they can flip open four-inch street preachers with style, pure poundage shot from a mini-breakdown. I heard Darren has his own man. I have only my behavior. This is the guy I want surrendered. Director says the real audience is one of the boys. He learned [[wrestling with relative ease|2]]. Old Mickey would leave heat after a solution. He’s a hurricane, outspoken and focused, method-acting fake gold. Handcuffs know him so well. His face can appear with the bleach, eyes more alive. The past clenches the hand that nudges the chamber. He growls, “the little hatchet lives to ten, then he says ‘Dear Diary’ and doodles your nana.” [[X|TOC]]

Hot glue on heavy fabric, folded like a card, shears centered then stapled twice. The spicy-sweet night makes for some jingle-jangle. Turning beastly is a little like origami. Perfection is debatable. [[Lips, eyes|18]], this man [[cast from designer products|21]] is natural plastic in cash. He is slightly obsessed with December. [[X|TOC]]

A ceramic spacewoman, Rourke has always been fixated on being a man. Fish milk him of the picture. One pal, a shy guy, makes painkillers in his apartment. He handles diminutive people. On top or on bottom, I always sit. He’d send over the kid with celebrity friends, iconic musicians, from Dylan to Bruce. They roost along Thursdays, Coronoas regularly knocked back by excitable angels. He shot ornate chandeliers with a blonde feigning obliviousness to the arsenal of toys. Fuck AA, I don’t believe in easy tits. My problem has always been bachelorhood. A non-committal Catholic brings redemption to the bearded biker in the ashes of blue light. I stood at the ocean and drank, I couldn’t stop. His life was heartbreak. Alone, I smoked, myself a child. Mickey was born abusive. He recalls [[a carpenter|3]], a bodybuilder, my [[father, shirtless and holding a baseball|8]]. I had no discipline. I came from Liberty City, the short end of a drug deal, swilling scene after scene in comic-book noir. His fight scene with Frank Stallone runs afoul. Lightweights boogie and sweet-talk their coming-of-age heat. [[X|TOC]]

Feisty does everything but foreplay, subtlety, scotch, and business. The real Madison would inhabit morgue of brass. Manufacturers recognize the spending power of ladies, those responsible for the bottom line of the early pioneers. Their slogan: “Pour [[Sugar on Sugar|15]]! Add an Ounce of Dry Skin! Overdo it!” I would cut out the tail, fold it under Amanda’s own batwing, then watch Carol lace-up the leather vulture. She fancies minks under the billboard: “Try Writing!” Her hairdresser liberated bleach across New York. It was unseemly for a woman to kill. The writer agreed to the interview, opening doors to racist and sexist advertising. Today, women near a career. Society works freelance by raising his psyche. [[I loved my towering women|21]], I welcome the shock of their glamorous novels. “What’s a good idea?” Robinson nonchalantly recalls. Heavy hitters, male or female, acting the lead. How impressed I was! Tinker, the world is her own and still mad. Cigarettes and public questions about a “silly woman” but I wasn’t interested in success. They imagine me totally used, because we were consciously brought up to have it raw. [[X|TOC]]

Replace your scientists and we can prevent the holidays. More affection from this gorgeous friend, she picked the catnip of competition because synthesized human pheromones reject cheap imitations. A siren nests in the inhuman Santa Monica winter. I didn’t really know the upside-down cross, rather I was possessed by a backyard of blasting guns n’ eight-year-olds. The forbidden black lipstick, or, more specifically, a cheerleader in denim; through thrash I would remember that jewelry was crushing. I can pinpoint the yearn for unbuttoned Americans. Scoured and sleepy, over twenty-thousand readers assembled a crown of ultrasounds. People think I’m from Salt Lake, but [[I train kids in offline honor|27]]. [[X|TOC]]

Here’s some money, flaunt your profits! The less compelling will eat their rent. Gramercy’s owner can’t match Crisco but makes his duck climb stairs for tasteless returns. Great news! Remember the poetic war? The agility, the finesse? We’ve made huge leaps since then. Ex-Nets guarding former possibilities…. When’s the videogame coming for the disease of art? The truth is, girls love toothless scratch. She made [[that conversation funny,|7]] her book is in need of much more campfire. Roosters trained to pull a sled and someday she’ll write the instructions. Her other birthday is accompanied by lust to invade teenage populations. Take this map of the local Gothic fairy tale Protagonist, young, delicate, navigates jealousy by looking for a gentle clientele. Legally, she works for the Man. Through her memoir, art escapes New Jersey as a blossom. It’s hard to pity art-world eccentrics. Dexedrine is more doormat than dust. [[She is the pregnant world|17]]. [[X|TOC]]

Interviews issue Vincent more than madness between masquerades and voluntarily healing his culture. Eventually he’d have started to look for patients, doctors, medication, and the microcosm that is an autobiographical summer. He can barely express superficial stuff. You’re familiar with Oregon? Come away with [[romantic pleasure|26]]. Watch Portland, like a loyal dog owner, it will eventually go black and white. Grow yarn, bees, and butter. Off the bus and wireless. Shopping is tough, but still, get these things: an old vacuum, abrasives, heavy candles, maelstrom, [[modern lady statues|10]]. Office reality devours “liberated” dresses. The mid-century is a sexpot. Old personas become the playmate to mad mystique, restrictive women, and golden royalty. Dare to step outside of an adorable apron and paint heavy-metal? All rights reserved. [[X|TOC]]

Whenever the temperature drops…. Dress shoes say a lot about your lists—like stained birds who knit water, flour, and yeast into breathable vests. Throw one over a traditionally clockwise lady. What makes killer shine? In the states [[Estelle|24]] prods her natural glow by those same dewy poses, around eighty girls, perhaps the reason Savannah has shady summers. February throbs with stories to tell on a lazy porch. To be historic, old warehouses bustle with hot pink groupies. A good man taught five-year- old Girl Scouts to peruse the museum. There, a collection of affordable sewing machines, no experience necessary. [[They’re bewitching|5]] if you’re not around. It’s a shame her attitude equips her with tiny musicals and a rebellious younger brother. [[Middle school sucks for everybody|2]]. I’m growing foggy with the ax, defying what I can— sanitary sex and acid endures. Eat a party dress. Everyone loves traditional vodka, stir in the sauce, whip up old records for someone. Show every movie ever experienced. The holidays are a delectable oil perfect for swimming. [[X|TOC]]

Do you want to drop [[deathbed confessions?|22]] Is there any superhuman without a biopic? What’s your last meal? “My wife.” Named for the after-party. [[X|TOC]]

Jamie-Lynn, clumsily boiling her comfortable bones, says “Of course there are some producers keeping my mouth shut tighter than a gang member.” She could hardly avoid feminine readers. You should marry a manhunt. The simple die toss is fraught with versatility: on the beach, on your head, resting against one’s imitation of a woman. She’s invited you for premarital sex, and first- year aeronautical engineers move back on dating but never pass the entertainment of a comic like [[Estelle.|25]] [[X|TOC]]

Estelle was born a Getty but married Death in 2004. Estelle got autobiographical. Even though Arthur’s actually five years younger, Estelle appears golden. If I knew, I’d vote for old bags. Lookin’ cute! [[Shake some ass|11]]! Any toe goes way beyond dance routine. They ordered [[Cynthia around by buzzer|21]]. The Muses shake political ladies whose day jobs are to balance a career with stargazing. You can help The Universe, a film followed by children hanging out by the audience. The third installment of holiday glamour sounds fun but a burnt down museum is truly stunning. Look back at the biggest miracle David could grind down. We’re suffering from overlooked Olympic success, Bird vs. Magic, this year’s wheelchair is the trophy. The shock left estrogen in the street, a marketer’s wet dream. All madness led to an accidental essay embalmed in ceremonial bronze. Our swagger lights up the home. [[X|TOC]]

Look out Lilly! Men toss out emotion but I’m not a genuine enemy. I mean, I love gossip, and my friends show such kindness that I lied because I could. They didn’t give a shit. It left me with a girl who’s witty between the sheets. She’d start mocking me as though she were breaking the cliché of bad-insane and good-insane. Steve notes that these women give you the taser. Interviews with male victims identified the perils of temporary insanity. Sometimes a chick isn’t wild, it’s you. I dated this guy but he behaved like twenty-dollar bills. In retrospect, I enabled it. [[Honestly, this kind of man|15]] reveals the garbage. An unassuming dental hygienist, she seemed to be completely animalistic. Not a buttoned-up wax man, often abandoned (as Jared puts it: “the crazy ones on the verge of drama”) , who lacked a flat stomach. Can’t have dessert. [[This woman is superhuman|23]], just leave her. Free your fragrance. Men in the world should never wish for a cute blonde. Knowledge is the beginning. If only there were fresh-cut football bonuses or juicy steaks, a clean-shaven vacation, free-flowing and gorgeous. Sounds like your traditional technology traps the glaze of sports before Spain’s slanty fingers. Posing in Olympian moustaches, the teammates of Tom had ligaments like dreamy freshmen. How was surgery? Foul. Ugliness. Eight belles shudder. Commence the voodoo orgasms. Janelle’s own Rachel comes around by [[purple text|6]]. How you say “available” from the book of flesh and male fantasy. You were a charmer, right? [[X|TOC]]

The Bond girl carries new pipelines. Bond adapts. [[I read your life’s work|TOC]]— very kind. Who could love standard masterminds? I glimpsed her voice, the fake alligator is also tiny, an original spoof. She played all men in a rotating hell some years earlier. The sweetest hairline, the most sinister letters, all have their parts & labor. Artificial people have to stop sweating. I used a slight spritz in the purse, for the joy of it. [[Sublime babes|1]] love wisdom, you might not have realized. Jenny and Vincent are clueless, though they’ve managed perfect health until now. You can keep your eggs on deck but there’s no promise of resolution, maybe some sexcitement—it’s a shift into safer gadgets. Reality wrote for the CIA. It made a cigarette into a magnet. A strongman of steel [[jumped seven guitarists|11]] who were paid by the slippery company of you and your body. [[X|TOC]]

Preacher tells us “draw back, witness as we lose a little. [[Assassinated shipmates|9]] anticipate irregular history. Engaging puritans is less presidential than scathing. I had primal casserole in a riot. Although her optimum diet delivers, it’s time to scope disease. Why? Our obsession is love, addictive and brutally interdependent. [[X|TOC]]

//end note// These poems were originally composed in 2009 by taking an issue of //Bust// and an issue of //Maxim//, tearing out all the pages and mixing them together, then highlighting the phrases/words I wanted to use. After that, bits were filled in as necessary to aid the flow. Not sure if Twine/interactive fiction is really the best way to present these poems, but I am interested in the idea of getting lost wandering through them as if they were a forest. I did my best to have thematic, logical connections between the linked text and the following poem, though I'm sure readers may have other opinions on the efficacy of this. There's no real ending, other than if you make it back to the [[table of contents|TOC]] (the long list of X's), at which point you can see which ones you've missed and head on over. Some of these poems were previously published in //6x6// #26, courtesy <a href="https://www.uglyducklingpresse.org/">Ugly Duckling Presse</a>. They rule, buy their books. Thank you for reading! //<a href="http://www.levirubeck.com/">Levi Rubeck</a>// //copyright// Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International (CC BY-NC 4.0) Remix and share, but not for commercial purposes.

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BUXIM

Levi Rubeck
2019

table of contents