My Foot Fell Asleep And It’s Having Those Dreams
my foot fell asleep
and it’s having those dreams again, where
we alphabetized all our typos
and did sex stuff in front of them
until the correct spellings came out
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Tag Archives: automatic writing
He Just Yawned
11 Nov
He Just Yawned
Watching the new David Foster Wallace bio-pic
made me miss my old bandanas it made me start
blaming Jesse Eisenberg for things that he was probably
never involved in it made me start drinking more
Diet Rite I get sloppy when I’m sober while she always tended
to sober up after being sloppy but that doesn’t seem like something
that should be insurmountable, right? That sounds like something
that should be totally mountable! I’d mount that, right?
Wouldn’t you mount that, Helen? Shit I know I’d promised myself
I’d stop writing about the shit you mount but fuck you. You should want
to mount that! You should….I’m sorry I got distracted Shia LaBeouf’s live streaming
himself watching 72 hours worth of his own movies and he just yawned
Helen, you preternatural mounter of damn near everything else
besides that thing that was us working this out
he just yawned
I Don’t Have To Look Behind Me, All I Have To Do Is Squat
4 Nov
I Don’t Have To Look Behind Me, All I Have To Do Is Squat
“I don’t have to look behind me
all I have to do is squat.” she said
because that’s how she ordered a ham sandwich in public
because almost everything she’d ever said would sound sexual
I don’t know why
I tried to ask her if she wanted my pickle
but it came out sounding like I was miss-quoting
George Clooney in the most unsexy way and
I can’t remember any of the specific details
of the last time that we had lunch together
anymore
but I know what it’s like: being hungry
I’ve been eating Netflix movies and frozen vegetables for days now
Wait: what were we talking about? are we talking? what’s the fuck’s up with
tonight?
Arguing With Math
1 Nov
Arguing With Math
in this world in which you’re not around
evolution starts over, birds drop from the trees
having developed staplers where their wings
used to be and earthworms achieve a base level of sentience
only to discover that they’re almost 90% shaped like penis
and the parts that aren’t penis shaped look like penis anyway
so to the outside observable universe their level of looking like penis
or whatever this goddamn Facebook’d world prefers to call it
is pretty much 100% in this world
in which you’re never around
our past has been divided by silly putty
and I am outnumbered without you
and there’s no arguing
with math
I Keep My Coat On The Floor Tonight Because She’s Gone
28 Oct
I Keep My Coat On The Floor Tonight Because She’s Gone
the population of yesterday is waging war against the past-
urized dignity of my dick staring out the window at the rain
during a long night of mentally painful screen shots and suffering
if her vagina is a coat rack then her boyfriend’s penis
is a tiny jacket
but it’s not raining where her boyfriend’s tiny jacket lives
right now like it’s raining where my dick lives
where my dick lives: it’s pouring
my right hand looks older than my left hand
and my left hand looks older than the plot to Olympus Has Fallen
and the fact that it’s raining almost everywhere always
is almost the only goddamn thing tying this poem together
I’m almost consistently amazed by people who can sleep because I can’t sleep
I keep my coat on the floor tonight, because she’s gone
Paraphrasing Tom Petty
13 Oct
Paraphrasing Tom Petty
She was fond of the boy she was currently sleeping with, horses
and The United States of America—maybe not in that order
nevertheless: she would celebrate getting finger banged like it was Columbus Day
her vagina sympathized with the Native Americans
her vagina was a highway driving through somebody
else’s backyard just like everything else
a sucker for skateboards while at the mercy of gravity
He felt really bad about the state of his handshake
and that he’d as of yet failed to pursue his dream
of becoming a professional sky writer but these were
the days in which every hour seemed to be named after
some goddamn street sign in California and in every other neighbor’s house
the goddamn dogs refused to stop barking and maybe he did love her
and everything but THOSE FUCKING DOGS! he just had to: go
Their Record Player’d Been Lost
13 Oct
Their Record Player’d Been Lost……………..
Their record player’d been lost in the not so great shark attack of 2010
her blood replaced with half step orchestration and strong teeth
his blood replaced with warm chum and what was left of the vinyl
and when I listen to their songs I feel horrible
like overhearing an old sea monster trying to fuck a cave
almost reluctantly, like it’d rather be home hovering above
the ocean floor watching Netflix and pretending to fly helicopters
it loved the cave more than it loved not loving it
but where had that ever got it? did it love it enough to start
trying again? remember when Johnny Depp and Wynona Rider
were in that music video together
for that one Tom Petty song? did it love it enough
to start eating meals at a dinner table and binge watching
Frasier?
