Tag Archives: balls

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

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I Shaved My Balls For You

31 Aug

spike buffy

I Shaved My Balls For You

 

I shaved

my balls for you

 

I don’t know why

because you were already

gone, but I shaved my balls

 

Not with a razor

but with the nervous terror

that comes with all these years

of whatever this is

and loss

 

I shaved my balls

so smooth

you could build a haunted house on them

if you wanted to

 

but upon doing so

the house would just:

slip off

 

and while clinging to gravity

crumble

into a pile of balls-touched timber

and homeless ghosts

 

So please don’t build a house on my nuts, darlin’

because I just shaved them

and they’re too goddamn sensitive

and slippery

and why would you want to do something

like that anyway?

 

If you build a house on my nuts

you’d have to live there

and you don’t want to live there

 

You want to live elsewhere,

where everyone sweats ice tea

and wears underpants

and lives in cute houses not built

beneath their ex-person-they-used -to

love’s dicks

 

Which seems weird (to me)

[slight pause] that you live there, but

that’s where you live so:

 

ok [while looking left, to move on]

 

I don’t live there though, obviously

I live over here,

with great white shark ice sculptures

and a front row view of the vacant

lot that is my nuts

 

maybe I should plant flowers there

and watch them die because nobody waters them

like Sinead O’Conner does in that Prince song or

Taylor Swift sings about in that one song of hers

where she borrows a line about flowers from Prince

 

Shit

that reminds me, tonight:

Prince is dead!

Gene Wilder just died!

 

and I shaved my balls for you!

for some melodramatic/goddamn reason

 

Ha!

 

and when it was over

and all the tiny hairs had been vanquished

to the solitary confinement

of the bathroom floor, for a couple of seconds

 

I thought about calling you, but didn’t

because: fuck phones

ergo: instead of doing that

 

I figured it was time to start

re-watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer again

and walked off towards the sunset living room

 

as the neighbor’s heavy dogs

roared

their Donald Trump guts out

 

and the lamp beside my futon burst

into tears

that looked like

pummeled light