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