| (no subject) |
[Jun. 2nd, 2006|03:59 am] |
i don't know what my sister's watching
but it looks like it's from the 70's
and i just heard the word "vaporizer."
i wouldn't mind being vaporized.
i bet it would make a neat sound
plus there's the whole dying thing.
i mean, i've decided to take up smoking
because if i want to be dead by the time
i'm 35, i better get addicted pretty quick.
that shit takes time.
it's a good idea if you're not too big into
all that life and longevity stuff.
but life is a big deal to some people. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 9th, 2006|08:22 pm] |
Even when I write
Poetry while I'm on drugs,
It's still better than
The crappy poetry you
Write when you're not.
I'm not sure when you began
Thinking it would be a good idea
To tell the internet
Just how much you cry at night
Though it breaks my heart to know
That you cry yourself to sleep nightly
(The kind of heart-breaking
That is expressed in bouts of laughter),
I don't want to read about it
In a poem that will undoubtedly
Contain the word 'love'
(More than once)
And probably the word 'soul'
Preceeded or followed by the word
'Broken.'
We were all thirteen once.
Let's not relive that experience in
Poorly written literature.
Thanks |
|
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 23rd, 2006|11:03 pm] |
Hey, You
I remember the feel
of the sheets beneath us:
soft and white and almost clean,
the way hotel sheets are.
I remember your fervent hands,
hard against my back.
I remember your hair in the crook
of my elbow, your chin
sometimes in my neck.
I remember your mouth tasting
just like mine did. Eventually.
I remember my legs pinned
to the bed with gravity.
If I could remember
your name, it would be
quite helpful. |
|
|
| It's Not You, It's Me |
[Mar. 21st, 2006|11:57 am] |
Michael, if you're gonna want to date me,
You should know my parents both are Buddhist.
My mom and dad occasionally hate me,
And all the family 'cept for me is nudist.
What, you're fine with that? Well dad's a felon.
And my little sister's not too empathetic.
Mom still thinks she's Ferdinand Magellan
And plus, we think that it could be genetic.
That's okay too? Well I never learned to read.
And we hide dead babies in the minivan,
I think my hairline's starting to recede,
And grams and gramps are in the Ku Klux Klan.
Oops I think I'm actually gay,
So I don't think it'd work out anyway. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 2nd, 2006|12:57 pm] |
She relaxed
in her chair.
Those third
graders had never
seen her
so solemn,
especially after
seeing her so
manic. Her
legs sprawled
and stuck out
her skirt
like a pair
of spindly
straws,
like maybe
someone had
put her
soul in a blender
and pressed
puree.
David Studer
had colored
in marker
on the desk in
that small room
on Church street. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 1st, 2006|05:56 am] |
she only went inside to get
a couple things so i knew i didn't
have long. my eyes
constantly scanning the automatic
doors, expecting mom to come out
with armfuls of bread and milk.
my brother was sitting in the backseat
and i turned around with the crowbar
i found under my seat. i told him
if he didn't stop calling me
little pee-pee pants
in front of my friends,
his blood would cover that bar,
and i would like it.
looking back, i still meant what
i said... i guess. he never actually
called me those names,
i just wanted someone to threaten. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 12th, 2006|09:32 pm] |
I don't feel so well.
Shouldn't I feel better?
Grandma started getting better,
then she died instead.
I was thinking of asking for a raise
but I got fired for stealing.
Shit, this is cloud eight. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 8th, 2006|03:56 am] |
Out and Out,
Somewhere on a train
It choos and choos and I chew
And the food is bad but I'm
Traveling west because
Manifest destiny was always
My style.
In and Out,
Just a quick stop to say
That I can't stop, and
I hear you're still listening to
Hootie and the Blowfish
Because you would,
Wouldn't you?
In an Inn,
Considering the physics behind
The probabilities of
The consequences of never returning
Because it could be so much more fun this way
With a one way flight ticket
And the feather pillow I'll probably
Steal in the morning |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 4th, 2006|11:55 pm] |
Absence makes the heart grow cold
And murder makes it fonder
You always kill the ones you love
If you're Charles Manson |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 16th, 2005|11:24 am] |
Statistics are just around to show
That most people are not really people,
They are just the disorders they depict.
And fifty percent of the time, every time,
Statistics are just a collection of
Quantitative data, such as
Suicide is the third leading cause of death
Among Americans who are suicidal. |
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|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 5th, 2005|11:54 am] |
Old aunt Janette
Wasn't really that old
She just never got married,
Or so it's been told.
She must have been sad
Because one Christmas day
She ate a poinsettia
And passed right away.
Merry Christmas! |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 1st, 2005|01:53 am] |
Pepto Bismal, the sword of the
Physically afflicted.
A rampant bulldog in
The cerebellum?
A number times the count
Of a thousand Augusts
'Cross the brow?
A toss of waves and lunch
About to revisit?
A fire--not love--
Burning wildly in
Your heart of hearts?
A mass of liquids,
Shooting from the bottom portal?
Stifle the foreign avenger
With the pink hand
Of illness's death.
Pepto Bismal, the sword of the
Physically afflicted! |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 21st, 2005|11:04 am] |
FOX, if you were a real fox,
You would be swift and fast
And smart
But you're not.
Fox, if you were Fox Mulder,
You would be an attractive man
Who worked with Jillian Anderson
And saved the world from aliens
But you're not.
Fox, you're basically retarded
And you cancelled the funniest show
On television.
Die. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 11th, 2005|12:52 pm] |
In the smiling moonlight
I saunter up to you
Sauntering is a hard art to master.
I look at you for a long time
And I see how beautiful your face is
You have so many moles.
Then I think to myself
How much more beautiful it would be
If there were a knife in the side of it. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 30th, 2005|03:52 pm] |
Pandas are bullies
They eat other animals
Namely kittens and puppies
(And sometimes human babies)
Which are much cuter and smarter anyway.
Pandas are close-minded
They are only black and white
No room for argument
They'll never be as smart as kittens anyway.
Pandas are weaklings
They have never been in the olympics
Obviously they are inferior to the U.S.
And even the Russians and the Nazis.
Anyway... |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 24th, 2005|02:51 pm] |
you didn't talk about me on tv, conan. why?
WHY
YOU SAID YOU'D DO IT.
You promised me.
now all my hopes and dreams?
crushed.
demolished.
like a hurricane ripping through my insides.
my gallbladder is rebelling against my stomach
my lungs want to move away.
inside, my intestines are crying out "STOP DOING THIS TO US"
because i can't eat.
i'm so upset
i cry every day
every minute
why do you do this to me?
you want me to die, don't you?
well, conan, i don't want to die.
but i do want to know why you hate me.
you never want me to be happy
can't you just let me be happy?
i'm not sure if our relationship is going to last, conan. you keep shunning me this way.
but i really do like seeing you on tv.
you're funny on tv. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 22nd, 2005|08:50 pm] |
One beautiful day
I was walking down the street
And the leaves were all falling and fiery
When there was a sudden rottweiler.
It ran toward a happy boy
Across the road
With seven years and toys.
The dog sank his teeth into the tiny face
And devoured a whole dog year
Of little boy life.
Delicious. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 20th, 2005|06:50 am] |
Fake estate
Is greater than or equal to
Real estate.
Imminent domain,
Manifest destiny,
These are basically the same concepts.
Imminent domain equals
Give us your land
Or we'll blow you up.
Manifest destiny equals
Practically the same thing,
Only with Native Americans. |
|
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 17th, 2005|12:38 pm] |
The strike of matches
Against red phosphorus
The toss of fire and then,
Magically,
Deliciously,
Flaming babies.
Little infants all ablazin'. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 7th, 2005|02:41 pm] |
After college, I will go to grad school
Because that's what you do
When you don't know what to do with your life.
More schooling, more schooling, give us your money
And we'll give you some letters.
After grad school, I will get a PhD
Because then I will be a doctor
And everyone could be scared
Of the three letters I can put behind my name.
Heil me like Hitler.
After I have my PhD, I will walk around on the streets
Looking for people who are injured.
"Don't worry," I'll tell them.
"I'm a doctor."
And when they look all hopeful,
I will pull out a book of poems
And recite to them something by Yeats or Frost.
And maybe they'll die, or at least
Blame me for their amputation.
And then I'll probably eat doughnuts. |
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