Spontaneous shit poem (or the first poem in years)

•June 27, 2017 • 1 Comment

I hadn’t been to a poetry reading

in years. Probably hadn’t written a poem

since before that.

It was like going back

to an ex-lover who hadn’t moved on

and the feelings had never died

and I was tickled with desire and reminiscences.

I love poets and hearing them deliver

their truths about struggles and thankfulnesses

and injustices and dark desires.

But at the same time, it reminded me why

I hate poets.

The ones who get up and make declarations of their awesomeness.

The ones who compare every natural or manmade thing

to the fuckable parts of a woman’s body.

Piers and waves are not fuckable,

will never be fuckable

and will not love you back.

Much like most women.




•February 21, 2009 • 9 Comments

I really lucked out.

Somehow got the wife

I’d dreamed of.

The wife I love making coffee for

in the mornings.

The wife who’ll rub my feet

even when they stink like I’ve been

walking in a swamp.

The wife who laughs

when I fart too hard

and shit my pants a little.

She asked me the other day

if it was normal that we don’t fight.

I told her yes, it’s normal.

Probably not the statistical average,

but it’s the normal

we both want.

The Weather

•February 21, 2009 • 2 Comments

What I dread most

are boring conversations about the weather.

I drive people home

from Florida and Arizona

and Cancun, Mexico,

and they’re all suntanned, hungover,


And they look out the window

and comment on the snow.

Oh. I didn’t know.

You shitcock piss-stain.

I’ve only been out driving in it for hours.


•February 21, 2009 • Leave a Comment

The cats are curled into each other

on the couch, oblivious.

I have finished the coffee,

neglected the dishes,

skipped taking a shower,

cursed the snow,

and later,

have to go to work.

These sleeping cats cause me

great envy. They have it easy.

I feed and water them daily,

give them cat drugs,

scratch behind their ears.

I have to trudge through snowbanks

to get to work, pay the bills,

clean their acrid litter boxes,

and they just curl up and sleep.

Goddamn little purrbox cuties.


•February 21, 2009 • Leave a Comment

The wind is bringing more snow.

Weighty piles adorned my car this afternoon,

causing me to once again wonder

why the fuck I still live where we have winter.

A Not Very Good Cheeseburger

•February 16, 2009 • 5 Comments

I was eating a cheeseburger.

Not a particularly good cheeseburger,

but I was hungry.

An incredibly gorgeous woman walked past me,

looking into my eyes and smiling.

I returned her smile,

watched her ass as she walked away.

Petite, large bust, blonde flowing hair,

and crippled right hand that looked like a baby’s fist.

Stunted from birth,

fingers perpetually curled into her palm.

She was very careful to hold it

so it wasn’t immediately noticeable,

she was graceful and fiercely sexy.

I wondered what it would feel like

to have her stroke my cock

with her crippled hand,

thinking that she would make

some pervert very happy.

I went back to my cheeseburger,

and continued to be disappointed.

Global Economics

•February 16, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Global economics surpasses my understanding,

much like the peace of Christ.

The peace of Christ is like global economics.

I look like the caucasian Christ model,

hero of the midwestern Sunday School.

So it is that I am like global economics,

and surpass my own understanding,

hopefully on my way to peace.