Monday, March 17, 2014

Just once I’d like to whimper
Elegantly on your street corner
And have somebody take
A nuanced photograph.

Call it a pictorialist nocturn, call it incriminating evidence.

I’ve never felt romance.

Romance pt II
Just once I’d like to throw
Beer bottles at someone’s house,
And watch a bedroom light snap on,
From the ambient ricochet.
Call it a cosmic explosion, call it a straight pussy move.

I’ve never felt romance.

Romance pt III
Just once I’d like an oily hand
To shove food up the front of
My teeth so I could feel
Something all night.

Call it a beautiful erection, call it a reason to see a doctor.

I’ve never felt romance.

Behind the scenes: Inside the making of Romance pt I-III
Seriously how the fuck do you spell ricochet?
I had to look that shit up in a search engine

Dear guy who most recently tried to rape me: 

You probably don’t realize how much you turn me on.
When I lodged my foot in your crotch and
You screamed and
Folded in half and
Fell over and
I was running down the street,
I came in my pants a little bit.

You’re a sweet boy and 
You want to give me 
What you know I want.
The only thing that could
Make me more hot 
Would be for you to
Swallow your own dick and shit it out your ass.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Letter to couple/Dedication to Andy Rooney, the “Did you ever notice…” guy from the newsmagazine show 60 Minutes

When you ask me to dogsit,
And I’ve never been in your house before,
And your dog likes to chew things,
And eat things,
Like he did to a pair of my underwear,
And like the yarn balls
In the basket where you keep the yarn balls:
Please move the sex toys
Out of the yarn ball basket
So that I don’t come home from work
And see chewed up yarn balls all over the floor
And chewed up sex toys all over the floor
That I then have to inform you were
Chewed up by your dog,
So that you don’t get some strange disease
That no one has ever heard of.
Put them in a box
Or a cabinet
Or, I don’t know, wherever the dog
Won’t stick his face.
Did you ever notice that dogs are always
Sticking their faces where they don’t belong?

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Apologia/Somewhere in Christiania

Spotting a seat at the end of the row,
I make the decision to give the people already sitting
The ass rather than the crotch.
Inching slowly, slowly
Avoiding feet and purses,
I whisper in low tones:
Excuse me, can I just get…thanks…
Uhh sorry…Excuse me…I have
No idea who I am anymore…
Sorry…Thanks…pardon me,
I’m selfish and I mean to be unkind…
Sorry, th-- thanks, agony is the sole entity
that seeps into my empty life like noxious fumes
Into a gas chamber. Without the
Agony, it is a ghost town, and there is nothing…
Excuse me…all of my heroes are
Desperate and tortured…
 Forgive me…I’m sorry…
Somewhere I have lost myself entirely…

Friday, May 24, 2013

“I’m doing fine, feeling healthy.
I haven’t had a stomach ache in a long time,”
He said while he twitched and flinched in a
Pair of grandma’s glasses, sitting in the chair
They provided for him. Do you need a water?
They let the talent smoke on set. It’s essential
To play to their sensitivities, even if they seem too human.

Just imagine enduring the entire parade route perched on the
Hot leather seat of the mustang, arm waving side to side like it’s a big stiff
One in a pants-down chase scene.
Imagine doing that the whole damn parade route?
No one ever thinks of the discomfort.
It’ll turn your face into a Roman candle, like it or not.

Three feet tall, hugging and hiding behind the big, comforting leg
Of injustice. “What do you say, honey?”
 (in a voice innocent and shy) “Thank you.”

Solo at the end of 16 Blue
My parents got a new bathtub in the upstairs bathroom.
They had to cut into the closet of what used to be my room
To fit the thing in there.
Used to be that my room was a perfect square with an alcove in one corner.
The wallpaper had blue and pink hearts and was stained all over from
My dirty fingers.
Not anymore.
So I’m home for my yearly 18 hr Christmas.
I’m tired of reading and talking about myself so
I take a bath in this new crazy tub.
Used to be that as I undressed in front of the bathroom window
I would open the curtain a little so the guy cutting the lawn could
See me naked if he looked up at the right time.
Best I could do to get the old feeling was playing the Replacements 
While the bubbles from the Jacuzzi jets tickled my sensitive areas. 

Dove Chocolate Commercial, Making of
Music came.
The ribbons followed—
Endless streams of brown silk
Dancing in languid swirls.
Then she emerged, floating to the foreground. 
The girl they had searched for
Among hundreds of girls.
A decision needing to be made.
And finally “this is the one,” they said.
And her deep brown eyes closed
And she took the bite. Her painted lips
Lingering with pleasure as if
She was sucking on her own tit.