heft baggage/heavy duty duties

nothing is ever negative; i am negative
nothing is positive; i am positive
i hear, speak, and see evil and its heavy and i carry the load
and im gettin ripped

its the only way to go if you want to save your soul

clean addictions

cold check it
this shits electric
the type of clean fun
thats fast and hectic

i long for the kind of moral relativism they taught me in school
the kind where everyones right all the time
until someone loses their temper or overgeneralizes, that is

theres no excuse for rudeness

im mostly in it for the feelings
i like to see how i feel
and try and understand how other people are feeling
you feel me?

we'll all go far if we remember to respect our older brothers
honor our fathers
care for our husbands
and obey our masters

it feels pretty great.

ive got birthday girl syndrome
its a bad case
i want everything i want and i want it now and ive got a reservoir of crocodile tears ready to flood the nile and break the levees of any boys brazen enough to fart out my candles

tonight, im my own scented candle
im a golden ratio
a factorial!
princess sparkles, dressed to the nines
pretty in pink and hot to trot
so get out of my sight, 'nless ya wanna get

ima make the rubble bounce


alienation of affections

today i saw the sea for the very first time
the gray waves washed over my feet
and i felt a scent linked memory
that nearly brought me to my knees
i told myself id love me forever
but ive broken that promise so many times
i dont know if i can ever be with myself ever again


tiny style

light up the night
with my
tiny style

light up the night
with my
tiny style

light up the night
with my
tiny style

light it up
light it up
(freeze. ice cream break.)


post-martyrdom depression

i accept these terms of service
ill wear the cross-shaped backpack
and the backpack-shaped cross
ive always been a glutton for punishment

i can faintly hear the dainty tears
of a runaway child bride
the footsteps on bubble wrap, shes slowly escaping...
creeping down the steps
dads like me never get invited to the kinds of parties shes running off to
i guess thats par for the public course

if i could do it all over again
i would do it exactly the same way
i did it
and again
until i regain
some kind of reagan-esque respect
for my most circumspect aspects

but anywise
if i may generalize, in a most general sense
i would order my troops to travel to the UCLA medical hospital morgue
to resurrect the corpse of michael jackson
reanimate him in a top secret government lab in my mothers basement
and force him to thoroughly explain to the fundits of tomorrow
the scope of his influence and musical genius
and why dancing in the flying v formation
is more relevant than any of emilio estevez's contributions to mankind


jazzy beef, the adorable motherfucker i never liked

some righteous playing by a jazzy great,
one day
you will see me in the light

its the sex that youre not having, mother
fucker of mothers, conceiver of brothers,
that inbred sense of self righteous indignation
when will people ever learn
to learn to love the love they learned a long time ago
they could learn to live without

it may have seemed like a good idea at the time
before i changed my mind
our schedules will overlap
and we'll have nothing but time
to kill
to stroke, and suck, and swallow our pills
and watch each other pay our bills
ive never liked this city

contemplate the contempt with which
one has been taught to resent the present
i had a dream about a red panda
it was adorable
but you wont see that on the five o'clock news
will you?

do you think im pretty?
yes, oh my god, hunny you are so gorgeous
im not handsome like the others, im a homely strumpet for certain
no, sweetie, really, youre prettier than me
you are not just saying that, are you?
no, darling, you are most beautiful girl of town

he grieves with little provocation, one might say
good grief
this whole sentiment smells like
roast beef
the porn star name i never used...

greasy wet gold lust

shes the kind of kind kindling that
kind of

you know,
the kind of kindhearted kindergartner
that, while grounded, kindly grinds
and whispers
and sneaks peeks daintily through
the stained glass mausoleum
of your pyramid-scheming,
gold-lusting nipple vesicles
those greasy wet chest testicles
the bladder-like, fluid filled sac
of pustular mischief
that turned my stern taciturn silence
into green, green ambient noises
punctuated by harp strings and echoing sines

ill admit it
i dont get it
any of it, at all
ive been walking from one gallery to the next
nodding my head in agreement
all the while stalling for time
trying to think of something to say
or do
and nothing comes out
i have nothing to offer at this very moment
because im just not feeling it
it being this
and this being whatever this is


practice the half-smile in the lotus position, or dont

as the scene is set
its golden, shimmering
gleams and sweats

it seems
as it has before
that these days weve all got a case of the
nosy neighbors
but you must have seen something you liked

and the eventual response,
'the blueishness of it all...
startling, startles me'
the answer, of couse, positive smoke

if you must know, our son
is an absolute embarrassment
she lights a cigarette for some reason
he just wants to shimmer so hard
it makes my head spin!
snorkeling in my bathwater?
not under my skylight

keep it velveteen
honey bean
hes under the spell of a foxy piece of
shit and
your legwarmers are getting hot
enough to turn yourself into
your heaviest

you know?
its just not the same as
it used to seem

upon her exit, she spits the butt onto the carpet
and whispers
if everyone would just learn to suffer
with a little more style and grace
i would feel so much better
about my own


Faux-Scientific/Spiritual Musings Vol. 1

This dying star is about to collapse in on itself
Anything that falls inside the event horizon
Will get sucked and fucked
Into the singularity

Now I'm seeing multiple images of the same star
As I fuse elements
And produce energy
And hum to myself
And think about Roxanne and Hawaii
And my leg hurts

I'm still trying to find that spark
That made me fall in love with myself
All those years ago
And even though I'm turning gray in various ways
I'm still content 12% of the time
And I understand that's a significant ratio

I read a comment on youtube once
"It's gay to want to be happy all the time"


fresh guilty skeleton confessions

i dont want anything to change
i just want everything to stay the same

i want to travel back in time
to the set of the pilot episode
of home improvement

i want to be married
to my own constipated sense
of self righteous indignation
on the same day
they finally bury
my fresh guilty skeletons
the disguise ive worn
on too many doorsteps
on too many halloweens

itll be a closed casket ceremony
my humility rotting away
inside of a costco coffin

but all things must come to pass
or something like that
ive never been much for mottos or mantras
but i feel a chant coming on

dear jesus
please believe us
we've done the best we can
and if you believe that
ive got some literature
you might be interested in

monday 11:24

i thought i was going to be sad forever
but since ive learned it isnt real
its become more of a pastime, really

on one hand, its freeing
to know that ones misery
is their own miserable responsibility
on the other hand
thats a lot of responsibility

i wish someone could make these decisions for me
but therein lies the problem

if i could only
if i were better
i could

ill do my best
but thats impossible, isnt it
laziness is the antithesis of love
they say
and i am a very lazy man
but thats hardly unique

theres another way to think
about everything
every situation
can be analyzed from a more comfortable position
just shift your weight
in such a way
that you feel
like yourself



i might have made a hell of a woman one day
but youre not supposed to say that sort of thing
out loud
or on paper
unless youre a scouting kind of girl
who sells the sweetest cookies
to the loneliest of men

i might have made a hell of a lumberjack
but with all these allergies
im better classified as more of an indoors kind of handyman
but with all this claustrophobia
its getting awfully difficult
to be agoraphobic these days

i might have made a hell of a man one day
i may still make something of myself
or i might shout at these yellow walls
i see in my peripheral vision
until my eyes bleed
and the yellow turns brown

i might pretend everybody hates me
its spring, so there are plenty of driveway worms

i might wish i were someone else
or ralph nader

i might have just heard gunshots outside of my apartment
but im from the suburbs
they were probably just fireworks

i might be the greatest thing that ever happened to my life
since my mom sliced me my first slice
of bread

or i might be the physical manifestation
of a buzzword
that didnt make any sense in the first place
and was probably misused, misheard
or misquoted
by some dork
named weric edgework


the old timers called it cabin fever

oh so smooth
pet the fur
feels like
it should have
super cool

i am calm!
im perfectly calm!
im perfectly perfect
having previously perfected the art
of perpetrating perfection
in all directions

you think you know me steve?
you dont know shit
you wouldnt know shit if you tasted it
you wouldnt know love
if it hit you on the back of the neck
and slid down the small of your back
into your sweats

i want to hold you so close
i want to put love into everything i do
i want a lot of things all at once
i do
and sometimes
it just
seem like
the right thing
to do
to you

ive only got a few more minutes left,
relatively speaking
and relatively speaking
its all relative

you know?
you dont?
or you do?
you do or you dont?

you are something
but not something else
thats a special label that i reserve
but relatively speaking, you are
so here we are
back at the start

i wonder whats on tv...

triangular hamster

i remember when all this horrible nastiness started
with an upset stomach
and a brown banana
a smartly pressed frock
and a neatly tied bandanna
an upside down pyramid
in which lies the hollowed out corpse
of hannah montana

organs neatly placed
in their correct places
organ transplants
now include faces

how about that?

we all do things we regret sometimes
dont we?
i do
im planning on it, actually

actually, im making plans
(unconciously maybe, but plans are plans)
to ingrain these bad habits
deeper and deeper
simply because
my fingernails feel
against these itchy red flakes

my temper tantrums
soothe my tender little diapered soul
and even though my mother
is miles away
from home
i scream at the top of my lungs
in the gentlest of ways

because im a gangsta
and i never had a shit to give
or a fuck to care about

naw im just playin


faux-misogynistic musingings vol. 1

that jinkety jankass
junkyard skankass
was skankening
for a prude

for a stank spankening
and bankening
on a frank prison yard


it occured to me that no one has ever written a poem about being in love before so i thought id give it a shot

im in love. with a fragrant beast.
shes a tender customer and a sexy walrus garlic breath for certain

theres lots of fish in the sea but who said anything about fish?
i dont want gills or a scaly slimy lover who guards their little feelings like an unscratched lotto ticket. what are the odds? exactly.

im in the mood for some real meat that breathes a sweet sigh of unsalted relief when its squeezed, that knows im marinated with the same savory juices and wont fry for just anyone with a gas grill lighter.

sometimes i cant believe how lucky i am.

not only am i living in the future and not only am i going to get to watch the stargate open live on digital cable and not only have i won a free* ed hardy handbag (and sunglasses click here) but i am blessed with the responsibility of being a feeling being that is full of feelings, and i feel like i have been chosen to start the next chicago fire with an officially sanctioned olympic torch, handed down by god himself and blessed by a rabbi in a sausage factory.

ive been feeling a lot these days.

all over the place
up and down
back and forth and in circles.
all over my own face
retroactively and in various fantasy sports leagues.
on the beach and in the beach
on top of my fifth grade teachers desk, and way deep down inside my own brain, the strangest place yet.

tonight, im a comcast cable cannibal,
a sanctified sanctuary manimal.

theres a lot of corn syrup in the grocery store but they still sell fruit if youre feeling fruity, and theres still vegetables out there if youre hardcore.
the world is an oyster and it can be yours too if youre into that sort of thing.
its not my decision to make. its not my clam to bake.

i think i might be making the best decision ive ever made before.

ill carry the ring. ill love myself like the love of my life because thats who i am and thats what i was made to do. forever and ever until my heart explodes in my sleep and tapes itself up before i wake up and start to like the smell of it.

she knows. she understands, even if she doesnt.
rome wasnt built in a day.
a stitch in time saves nine.
a cats got your tongue and boys will be boys.
holler back and shalom, may the force be with you and dont stop til you get enough.


fat magic

im not mad
im just disappointed
this poem was a tired phrase
before i wrote it and
coined it

ive developed a bad habit of
expecting and assuming
til my face starts blooming
and its red

dont be sad
be mad
be a man
be an angry angry sports fan
be a hungry hungry orphan
that just cant stand it
that never asked to be born
onto this planet...

(they didnt plan it)
get it?

lets get to work
and burn this "church"
with these "hands" of "gold"
that i wash for hours on end
these fingernails that i screep scribble and
scrape underneath them
even though i know
invocation: ill never be clean again(!!!)

not after what they did to me..
not after they made me sit through
that episode of law and order
that made all three of my nipples throw up in disgust

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck.

i bust my crust
while i lust the dust
and hope and pray
that wishing can eliminate
this chronic pain

but it cant
and it
hope floats: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119313/

im just some guy
and this world is just some girl
and depending on how my circulation flows
beneath these kohls clothes
that could be a wonderful wonderful wonderful blessing
or a second asshole
who knows

no one really understands anything on their own
let alone themselves
so leave yourselves alone for once
in your miserable miserable lives
and become a jubilant jubilant housewife
of the mind
and feather dust my heart til it shines

and shines

and shines


all i see are waves of gray
ill take the slow ride down
to the one place
i want to lay
i want to lay


pretty girls are so pretty sometimes

Kid, don’t you know
Its not your fault
You got your whole damn life
To do what you want
Its like using a machete
To cut spaghetti
Or a butter knife
to stab someones heart

Boy, don’t you know
This worlds a joke
Told by a some dumb guy
With no mind of his own
Its like surprising a yeti
With a bowl of confetti
He’ll never get it
So whats the point?


i feel yellow? is that normal!

girlz be gettin hard at the roller rink
they be felchin in the kitchen sink
transmogrifyin til its pink
i think i want to touch it

im not a slut
im just in love
rub back and forth
and pop that scuzz
its overrated
says the fuzz
just concentrate on homework

at a time like this?
ill take a shit all over your piss
and blow out your birthday candles
my stomach is full of animals

that once lived and breathed
until i squeezed
the life out of their dumb little knees
and made ice cream soup out of their poop

the kind of gloop
that goes 'bloop bloop'
ive gone so low i cannot stoop
but i dont feel like it anyways

Dear Eric,

I don't get it. This may sound fickle, but you used to be a lot cooler than you are now. I just wanted to let you know that all the guys down at the dock hate you and think your face looks stupid this year.

Get out of my dreams and into my car,
Donny Trevino
Local Union #664

im fine just fine just fine im fine

i shiver like a milkshake
quivering in my boots
my socks are wet
my feet are cold
my brain is in cahoots
with some loser's inner demons
the ghosts that hurt the most
the kind that make you want to cry
tears made out of goats

the end.


Dear Eric,

I love you poetry. Will you marry me? I don't have much but I can offer you five hots, a cot, and a shot in the mouth. My sons also have a few remote control cars and an old transistor radio, if you're into A.M. They're good boys, a little on the chubby side but that's nothing to worry about these days. Let me know soon. My husband is a very stern man and will be home by 5.


Jim Hendrickson
Senior VP, Marketing
Camco Industries Inc.