Damn Those Torpedoes (for Tom Petty)

8 Oct

 

Damn Those Torpedoes

aka So This Is Home

 

Existence is a sinking island

Circled by something inspired by battleships

That’ve been bombing the shit out of everything

 

Ever since roughly

around 3 and a half minutes

After the invention of whatever all this is

 

Let’s call it everything!

Let’s call it home!

 

Everyone alive at the moment living between oblivions

on the sinking island have their own theories about the battleships

and what the purpose of their bombing the life out of all of us is intended to be

 

Some people think it has something to do with faith

(note to self: remember to re-watch The Ten Commandments

and other Charlton Heston movies like I’m Charlton Heston and Soylent Green)

 

Some people think it has something to do with mathematics

(note to self: remember to re-watch Good Will Hunting)

 

Some people think it’s all about hamburgers screaming and nothingness

(note to self: remember to re-watch porn)

 

I happen to think that your eyes are constitutionally perfect

In all the ways possible, and I’m being serious

Do people still say things like ‘stunning’ anymore?

 

(“I liked the way we danced.” – The Legend of Bagger Vance)

 

That’s funny, because

I still happen to think that the universe is doomed

and your eyes are stunning

In the way those things we love move on

or don’t let us down are stunning

 

and I’d just like to say I’m sorry

I forgot to eat your soufflé

I’m sorry!

 

This poem is supposed to be about Tom Petty!

But, fuck

those eyes, if they were a fucking recording artist they’d be playin’

with The Heartbreakers right now

(ok now, here we are, back on track)

 

(the absence of many words here now meant to represent silence)

 

I want to tit fuck your eyes

Whoops, we’re heading someplace else now

where Tom Petty’s still dead and tomorrows are a recurring myth and

 

If I had one wish right now

that had nothing to do with fixing what’s wrong in this world

and everything, I’d want to tit fuck your eyes

 

Is there a more politically correct way to say this?

 

I want to tit fuck your eyes

With words shaped like my penis

 

There, now I’ve said it

Let’s get back to Tom Petty and those goddamn battleships

with their existence ending cannons

 

Damn the torpedo that took Tom Petty

when this world really needs him

 

Damn those torpedoes that’ve taken everyone this month

do to hate and gunfire and natural disasters and Trump

 

Damn those torpedoes that take everything away from us

Damn those torpedoes that un-unite humanity

Damn the torpedo that threw me away from you

 

I’d always known all this other horrible shit could happen

(I miss you too, Tom Petty)

But I never thought they’d get away with something like this

 

Those torpedoes managed to take us out too

 

Shit, so

Damn those goddamn torpedoes

#we’llAlwaysHaveWhatWeHadAndDeadwoodbut

 

I’ve been limping like I’ve been waiting in line

for the next slot in the meat locker since then

Which is seriously, ridiculous

 

I’m not giving up or anything, but

Those Tom Petty Damned torpedoes

aren’t fucking around

 

#everytinginchargeisrediculous

 

That was one hell of a shot

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Casablanca 2: Trump-World Boogaloo

2 Oct

 

Casablanca 2: Trump-World Boogaloo

 

Casablanc-me

The moon’s going out tonight

and can’t decide between a bulletproof vest

or a straight jacket and tights

 

(She had the attention span of a corn chip

and my heart is guacamole)

 

Casablanc-you

All I’ve got left is a green Batman t-shirt

and a busted piano that only plays one song

While you’re over there with your new fella

 

Decked out in your sexy bomb shelter

Almost-nakedly debating between oblivion, Phil Collins

singing about mushroom clouds and The Cure

 

Romance is at war with all the things that happen in the real world

Rewound into the 1940’s

Love’s plane keeps getting shot down by brand new Nazis

Kurt Vonnegut said everything: “So it goes”

 

Casablanc-oblivion!

Casablanc-all this confusion that comes from all our lives

lived inside the in-between

(When you drove away I crumbled

against the door

like a slain cookie smashed by the very plate

that had sworn it its love)

 

Casablanc-all that gets lost between the non-existing

And the injustice that thrives in its binding

 

Casablanc-the penultimate dick joke,

that had nothing to do with cookies

but shit, you’ll have to trust me

It’s a dick joke, so it’s funny

 

Casablanc-us all

Greek Salad vs. Lou Ferrigno

29 Sep

 

Greek Salad vs Lou Ferrigno

 

she ordered a greek salad

w/ italian dressing

interdicting the specific flavor intensions

of the dead bastard who invented

greek salads

 

she never wanted a sandwich

or a hotdog, which also might be considered a sandwich

or whatever the hell  other meal type options are out there

competing against the decisions for salad

 

she never wanted world wars

or Poco Harem records

or to hurt me, or to be the person

who fucks somebody else’s shadow

into the sun

 

she just wanted a whole lot of distance

to get away, somewhere

where she could be swallowed by vineyards

 

she wanted out

 

p.s.

 

my penis is like lou ferrigno

neither one of them can hear

shit

If You Stare At My Nose Long Enough It Looks Like A Penis

4 Sep

 

If You Stare At My Nose Long Enough It Looks Like A Penis

 

I only just noticed this yesterday

 

Between Trump vs. North Korea and a bad dream

Involving all the women who’ve left me vs. all the women

I’ve let down and I’ve been living with my nose now

For a really long time, still

I remember it looking other ways, but

Holy Dick Flakes, Batman!

I have no stuffed box memory of it ever

Remotely looking like this

 

And for the past 10 years of so I’ve been paying attention

Because Richard Brautigan wrote a poem about it

And it’s a good one

About his nose and how it was growing older

And I was a young lad at the time, suddenly horrified

By something that had not occurred to me

When I thought all the horrible things about everything

had already occurred to me, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

 

Youth is an endless procession of discovering

One brand new horrible thing you’ve never thought about

after another, day after day

Until the day’s become years and

The years become Grape Tic Tacs

And untouched jars of Chicken Tonight

And the Chicken Tonight becomes oblivion

 

So every year I get older, if I remember

I’ll occasionally check to see if that face part is getting older

Faster than the rest of the things

I’ve been on the lookout for the Brautification of my nose

For a reasonably measured amount of time

 

And before tonight, things had been fine as far as that area goes

But tonight things have changed again

And not in the way poetically expected

It doesn’t look older, it’s just………….

 

Tonight my nose looks like a penis

Ok

Fuck it

“So it goes” as KV used to say

But things weren’t always like this

 

My nose didn’t always look like a penis

 

At one point it looked like my favorite Foghorn Leghorn cartoon

At one point it looked like King Kong attempting to protect Fay Wray

And at one point, as I got older

It looked like the Bat Symbol

And every time it went down on her Gotham City

It was beautiful, and

Love would save the day

 

It’s been a long time now

Between tonight where my nose looks like a penis

And those past times when it last donned the cowl

 

It’d be too easy to blame Ben Affleck for this

So we won’t blame him, or will we?!

It doesn’t matter

 

Tonight, if you stare at my nose long enough

it looks like a penis

So be it

 

Though I still may or may not boycott the new Justice League movie

I still think of you often

every time I sneeze

Even My Teeth Are In Love With You

31 Aug

 

Even My Teeth Are In Love With You

 

At the dentist

They were playing Dido

 

They were fluffing their nipples against all the Novocain

They were comparing their own

Previous night’s erections to tooth decay on nitric

Slapping old ‘I Voted’ stickers atop their visible hickys

Attempting to un-memorize the plot

(moves the pawn a space or two)

 

While I sat in the space chair waiting for my x-rays

Reading more Chekov while wearing

That blue hat surrounded

By spit sinks and drill bits glazed in goodbyes

 

Eventually,

 

A raven approached, offering the deluxe co-pay quaking cleaning

In easy to feel bad about installments

And it was the end of the month, where I have no money, so

I told the goddamn bird that I wasn’t Poe

And that I’m pretty sure Chekov wouldn’t have

Put up with this shit, thusly and things like that

I sidestepped the big bill

(chess moves hounded by chess moves)

And chose the free polish option they offered after

I threw what could be considered a mini-fit

Instead

 

Still, on the way out I agreed to call them later

To schedule an appointment for the expenso-clean

Because what else am I going to do?

Your Queen controls the board and

I’ve grown used to my teeth

And everything at some point finds itself

Dependant on a cleaning

 

That said (hits the ‘play again’ button

Or whatever it’s called on the remote control thingy

In order to hear the new Taylor Swift single again)

 

It just pisses me off

Everything is made out of somethings

And it’s always something

 

Why does everyday have to feel like

The guy playing chess with Death in ‘Seventh Seal’

To the sounds of a surf war, thick step after thick step

For the ability to tread water

 

Historical Note:

 

If they made The Seventh Seal today

They wouldn’t be playing chess

They’d be playing something more intellectually relevant

To the times

They’d be playing Pokeemon Go

 

That’s what they’d fucking be playing!

Because life is just: Pokeemon Go?!

 

Maybe,

 

We spend our whole lives with our heads down

Tracking things that aren’t really there and pretending to catch them

In order to get us through to the next day

 

Just so we can go to the dentist, where we never fucking want to be

Just so we can get our hearts broken, weaved with the need to limp forward

Just so we can still fucking exist

My Balls Are Longer Than They Used To Be

21 Aug

 

My Balls Are Longer Than They Used To Be

 

Not that I’ve ever measured my balls

with a ruler

or a step ladder

or a metrically precise piece of tape

 

Who’d think to do that?

 

It’s just, my birthday was last month

and on my birthday

at some point in which my pants weren’t on

I happened to look down

and noticed

my balls are longer than they used to be

 

I can’t back this up with science

or a pertinent song by Rob Thomas

I just know that they are

like I knew Trump would try to nuke North Korea

to divert attention away from all his domestic time bombs

or how I knew she was leaving

a whole lot of months before

she was actually gone

 

I looked down, on my birthday

and they were longer

longer than I remembered them being

There it is

 

Possible reasons for the elongation:

 

–after the 2nd divorce I stopped wearing underpants

for 5 or 6 years maybe until this year

where I started wearing them again

(even though I’m not wearing any right now)

(I was just wearing a pair earlier

yesterday

so there)

 

Could this extended lack of under stuff support

have something to do with it?

 

–Perhaps it’s just that vindictive combination

of gravity and the mortal extension of time

 

That’ll do it

 

— I watched Alien Covenant 3 times in 5 days at the theater

Also I stopped eating cereal a really long time ago and

I live alone with a cat named after an island that doesn’t exist

 

Is this why I wake up every morning now

and my balls are this long?

Not that they’re ridiculously long or something like that

They’re not

They’re just longer

Than I thought they would be

 

I mean, what was I trying to say here?

I don’t know. Maybe the point is:

And that’s why I don’t play softball anymore

 

you think so?

maybe?

don’t be fraught

Care Bears Are Dropping Like Pre-Emotionally Assigned Flies

19 Aug

Care Bears Are Dropping Like Pre-Emotionally Assigned Flies

 

One:

Time keeps stretching past the morgue of anniversaries

The distance between things gelded between Shark Week

and our abandoned Love Sac

Ending just keep on going, shaking piss fits

 

Two:

like flawed parachutes

and a mansion of Care Bears

screaming waffle scented anathemas

on their way to a lonely splat

 

against the ground

 

 

August 16, 2017

                                                sitting on a futon

                                                Lafayette, CO