Archive | October, 2014

zen poem: four

31 Oct

t swift four

for all the toads

who have ever lost

their lily pads

and for all the lily pads

who have ever lost

their water

and for all the water

that can’t forget

what it was like to watch you shower

before toweling off


zen poem: three

31 Oct

t swift three

she misplaced her pumpkin patch

for a little while and replaced it with

an entire Nation’s fear of Ebola

as the lost panda misplaced

puking eucalyptus for

you forgetting her birthday

before remembering you haven’t forgotten

her birthday

she’s forgotten you

zen poem: one

30 Oct

t swift

because the butterfly

breaks its ankle on a

bad flower landing

because the wind

will change its mind

in mid-air

because fucking

in your mom’s bathtub

was fun

(poem written at bar table assignment assigned to me by Marcus, drunken haiku master and beloved ruler of Latveria aka Love Shovel Ranch)

2012 Romney Debate Responses Rearranged Into GOP Love Poems

28 Oct


2012 Romney debate responses rearranged into GOP love poems

I Like The Way We Did It In Massachusetts

My vibrant military Model
My middle class Nancy Pelosi
You bi partisan/whisking burdon you

I like the way we did it in Massachusetts
with your two paths pushed together
and your reluctant housing market
wrapped around
my fully re-elected

(no, wait!)

We worked well together
like an astonished Big Bird
giving a woman-like Donald Trump
the matter of fact buisness

There was nothing PBS about it!

With you
my thing is too big to fail
and your thing
(chuckles) your thing
is a romantic
pre existing condition

I’ll tell you what, I haven’t layed down
a piece of legistlation like that
since Ann brought home those
disabled kids and we……..I mean

You don’t want to hear about that

The role of government
is not a role
substitute ‘government’
for ‘I love you’


My love is a trickle down love
That’s it
but it’s still love

(Look at me!
Don’t look at them!
They’re poor!)

That’s it


If my “you know’
was a child and the rest of me
was the parent

let’s just say I know where I’d decide
to send my…my….my student

You feel me?

I’m going to fund the (inaudible)
out of your school system
that’s for sure

You’re entitled to have your
private sector taken care of

I’ll ship my love to China
if you don’t agree with me

Let’s not debate this
Yes means yes, yes?

Let’s do
this then
(You know I’m right)

Love Is Like: Sand People

25 Oct

sand people

Love Is Like: Sand People

Like Sand People
love is easily startled

But unlike Sand People
she won’t be coming back

Arguing With Something Sammy Hagar Said

24 Oct

Sammy Hagar - The Essential Red Collection - Front

Arguing With Something Sammy Hagar Said
for Jack Collom

the way light rocks against your shoulders
when you take a shower between the slenderly parted legs of dusk vs. dawn

and we’re staying in a hotel room that’s been built
with a window in the bathroom that’s lost its curtain

the way that rocks

differs cosmically from the way in which the unseen world rocks
everything that’s been know to us when, during those unexpected
occasions, it allows itself
to be known

both of these things rock
but they don’t rock in one all encompassingly categorized kind of way
no. they don’t
they rock differently

like the way Italian dressing rocks when the only thing
we’ve got left in the house to eat is a sexually abused cucumber
and a head of lettuce

is different than the way you misplacing your dildo rocks while being dilo-less and you
want to do something crazy together that requires

the presence of dildo

and I suddenly remember that we might have a cucumber in the refrigerator
and you say “Where?” and I say “Behind that old head of lettuce.” and then I say
“What do you say, should I go get it?” and you say “Yes!”

You see where I’m going with this, right?

Eating a delicious salad when you’re starving
post cucumber enhanced coitus rocks

as does participating in the actual cucumber enhanced dildo’ing sex
that rocks too

but they’re not the same kind of rocking
their rocking is different

so, that being as it is
where the fuck does Sammy Hagar get off insisting
in that goddamn song of his in which he does the insisting
that There Is Only One Way To Rock?

The central motif in this little diddy
is verifiabley flawed and also aurally
sort of ridiculous
not to mention completely unsupported
by the un-transcendent lyrics that surround
this false chorus to make up
its various puddles of clumsy verse

at one point Hager equates analyzing the previous line he’s just sung
with what he refers to with fully permed hard rock bravado as “mental masturbation”
but it’s not like any of his lyrics are cleverly written mysteries that require analyzing

Me like drugs! Me like fucking! Me like rock!

that pretty much sums up Hagar‘s lyrical metaphysics
in his own nut shells

analyzing a Sammy Hagar lyric is like trying to beat off
in a public port-a-potty
it’s degrading and desperate and seriously
for god’s sake man, can’t you just wait to do that sort of thing
when you get home?!

Sammy Hagar‘s idea of a metaphor is something like:
And then I went down on this chick/like me going down on a chick

Which is just stupid, like something stupid climbing a stupid tree
to spend 2 minutes and 35 seconds humming a stupid tune about
something stupid

So give it a rest already, Sammy Hagar
you Dee Snyder haired hard rock version
of Jimmy Buffet wanna be

There are plenty of ways to rock
you half assed hedonist

Boulders rock Granite
Moon rocks Skylight
Bed rocks Soil
The Rock rocks Tooth Fairies
Sham rocks St. Patricks Day
Sherlock rocks Watson
Paper rocks Scissors
Love rocks Existence
Hard rocks Cafe’s

I mean, come on!

Insisting there’s only one way of doing something
makes about as much sense as Mr. Hagar‘s
contention that it’s impossible, regardless of the current
conditions involved with surrounding traffic

no matter what’s going on or where he may happen
to be…..that it’s just too utterly fucking impossible
for this finite jackass

to ‘drive 55’

You can’t drive 55?
I don’t fucking care!
Drive 58 then!
Or 158!
Or take the goddamn bus!

Just stay off the fuck damn airwaves
when I’m feeling moody
(note: I’m always feeling moody)

and leave my midnight radio

The Only Thing That Keeps Me From Throwing Myself In Front Of A Razorblade Circus Is You

23 Oct


The Only Thing That Keeps Me From Throwing Myself In Front Of A Razorblade Circus Is You

“The only thing that keeps me
from throwing myself in front
of a razorblade circus is you.”

“What’s that?”
she asked.
“I wasn’t listening.”

“I said, the only thing that keeps me
from throwing myself in front
of a razorblade circus is you.”

(from my book beautiful graveyards, Farfalla Press)