mastercrastination

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
shaq
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

work...
hmm...

the old timers called it cabin fever

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

i am calm!
im perfectly calm!
im perfectly perfect
having previously perfected the art
of perpetrating perfection
perfectly
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
doesnt
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
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30586321/

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
soooooooooo
good
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
awankening

hankering
for a stank spankening
cantankering
and bankening
on a frank prison yard
shankening

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

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
juice
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
wont.
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

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.

A+!!!

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.

Sincerely,

Jim Hendrickson
Senior VP, Marketing
Camco Industries Inc.