Tag Archives: Helen

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



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




That was one hell of a shot


Care Bears Are Dropping Like Pre-Emotionally Assigned Flies

19 Aug

Care Bears Are Dropping Like Pre-Emotionally Assigned Flies



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



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

Were You Watching That, Helen

14 Nov

shia lb


Were You Watching That, Helen


It must’ve been cold in that theater

where Shia LaBeouf watched 72 hours of his own movies

in a row—with his t-shirt under a grey hoody under some

enormous army store jacket eating what appeared to be candy coated


cocaine out of a small soda cup and every once in a while

between moments of almost sleeping he cracked a smile

or scratched his nose or threw his hood on and silently farted

Were you watching that, Helen?



Did you see the medium-close framed selections

of optional human emotions that have been on display here

electronically over the past 3 days?


Or were you otherwise occupied

by I don’t know, whatever the fuck it is that otherwise occupies

you these days. How would I know?! Yes. How would I know?


I took herbal Viagra last night and my dick stalled straight like it was a Nazi

standing for 3 hours in front of Hitler despite the fact that my dick

is not a Nazi. But you already know that, right? I mean, your vagina

was from Poland. And my dick was on board with that


Shia LaBeouf has a facial expression for our situation

I’m not sure if you caught it. It happened around 58 minutes inside

his detached dude re-watching of Holes or was it Disturbia

or that goddamn time he swung through the trees with monkeys


like he was purposely trying to destroy the legacy of Indiana Jones

Either way, tonight I’m smoking alone and cooking a pizza

Tonight you’re building your new life on the carcass of our old


battle field and tonight Shia LaBeouf’s probably falling asleep

while taking a shit on some pretty chick he met at the movie theater’s

orange toilet. With his mouth filled with forgottenly chewed bologna

because that’s how things roll

He Just Yawned

11 Nov

shia cry

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

Dirt Road Graveyard

27 Nov


Dirt Road Graveyard

You’re like a graveyard

on an old dirt road

filled with ghosts

and fun to hold

séances in




(from my book Beautiful Graveyards, Farfalla Press)


12 Things I Learned While Watching: Movie Hookers–Julia Roberts vs. Elizabeth Shue

17 Jun


12 Things I Learned While Watching: Movie Hookers–Julia Roberts vs. Elizabeth Shue

1. The Plots: In Leaving Las Vegas Elizabeth Shue plays a gritty, street hardened prostitute who befriends a sad dude (Nicolas Cage) who’s moved to Las Vegas on a semi-holy mission to drink himself to death. In Pretty Woman Julia Roberts plays what could only be described as that rarest of Unicorns, a hooker who almost never fucks.

2. Julia Roberts pretends to be the sort of prostitute who’s never had sex before. Or if not ‘never’, then ‘rarely’ i.e. maybe one or two guys at the most. Which means she either comes to this world from an alternate multiverse in which the skill set for what they call ‘hookers’ is completely different, or she’s lying. I think she’s lying. Like when your girlfriend says she’s never done anal before and you eventually do anal together and because she’s drunk (because it’s largely in those moments cresting with booze where the anally timid find courage and the anal act thrives) she mumbles something into the pillow after about how “That didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it did the last time I did that.”. And you’re like “What’d you say?” and she’s like “Nothing.” and you’re all “I thought you said you’d never done anal?” and she’s like “Maybe I tried it once, but he couldn’t fit it in all the way so it doesn’t really count.” and you’re all “What does that mean? It doesn’t count?” and she’s like “Stop being such a Richard Gere about everything and get me a towel.”.

3. Elizabeth Shue’s kind of hooker is more honest about stuff like that. She’s not going to lie to you and horse-laugh like Julia when she pulls your pants down, act like she’s never seen a penis before, or behave all PG-13 about shit and make you buy her a necklace.

4. Julia Roberts is the kind of hooker who will refuse to kiss you on the mouth, unless you’re rich and you’re good looking like Richard Gere. She’ll have sex with you, maybe, but only after you pay her and agree to marry her missionary style the next day.

5. Elizabeth Shue’s the kind of hooker who’ll hang out and fuck you for free despite the fact that you’re drunk all the time, not quite average looking and broke. The only thing she asks in return is that you don’t cum in her hair.

6. And even if you do accidentally cum in her hair she probably wouldn’t get all that upset about it. She’d probably just half jokingly call you an asshole while trying really hard not to laugh.

7. If you accidentally cum in Julia Roberts’ hair she’s going to order you to drive over to the fancy hair salon to buy her a $400 bottle of shampoo and even after you apologize 100 times and buy her the shampoo you can pretty much count on her not talking to you again for at least a month. Note: During that quiet month she’ll still be charging you by the hour, but so-help-her-god if you so much as look at her without her first ordering you to look at her she’ll burn down the couch you’ve been sleeping on and charge you double for the time it takes her to do it.

8. And as long as we’re on the topic of Movie Hookers, if I remember correctly it was shortly after Nicholas Cage won an Oscar for playing Elizabeth Shue’s sidekick in Leaving Las Vegas that he transformed himself into a giant crotch and started selling his ConAir to the highest shitty-movie-bidder. He wanted to transform himself into an action hero or something. Fine. I’ve got no problem with that. I mean, he’s no Liam Neeson. But who is? Liam Neeson did what Nicholas Cage tried to do, only Liam Neeson did it correctly. Liam Neeson transformed himself into the greatest action movie hero this world has ever seen! In his new movie he beats a guy who’s pointing a gun at him unconscious using only his piercing eyes and one of those oxygen masks that fall out of the ceilings on airplanes! How fucking bad ass is that?! (note: It’s exceedingly bad ass. I love Liam Neeson.)

9. What I do have a problem with is when Mr. National Treasure unnecessarily remakes shit like The Wicker Man (taking an epically weird mix of dead crops, Christopher Lee, clog dancing, and a grown-man-virgin and remaking it into some bullshit thing in which Cage spends most of his time punching women in the face and screaming about bees.) or when he fucks with the stories of Philip K Dick. I’m talking about Next here, which was based on Dick’s short story The Golden Man. In the story the main character’s an unintelligent, golden, fur covered evolutionary mutation who spends most of his time in the woods, can see a half hour or so into the future, and possesses an almost Richard Gere like power over women (who aren’t Julia Roberts). His Richard Gere-ness allows him to easily spread his mutated seed and his precog powers make him damn near impossible to be captured by the ruling government which has come to realize that this Golden Man is the next step in human evolution. Society as they know it will soon be over. Everyone thought humanity’s intelligence was the future, but human intelligence has failed and will be weeded out and replaced by super powered survival skills and pretty golden fur that acts like peacock feathers or Steve Perry records on the opposite sex in order to keep everyone fucking/ ensure the continuation of the human race.

10. In Next Nicolas Cage plays the Golden Man, but according to the DVD special feature exclusive interview he had a few changes he wanted to make to the character. In Next the Golden Man is no longer golden. And he’s not covered in fur. He doesn’t spend most of his time living quietly in the woods avoiding the authorities. He’s not an unintellectual mute, he doesn’t have any sexually persuasive powers over women, and he’s no longer the first representation of humanity’s next big evolutionary step.What he is is a fucking magician. Because Nicolas Cage wanted to play a magician. I’m not making that up. The only thing Next has in common with The Golden Man is they kept the bit about the main character being able to see into the future. That’s it. They turned PKD’s original short story into the tale of a sad eyed magician who’s recruited by the police or whoever the fuck recruits him because they know he can see into the future a little bit and they need him to use these powers to find and prevent the exploding of another goddamn terrorist bomb.

11. Seriously. What the fuck’s up with that?! They treated a perfectly great Philip K DIck story like it was a broken Elizabeth Shue styled hooker.

12. Fucking Hollywood. If you’re going to treat great literature like a hooker, at least treat it like the Julia Roberts kind. Buy the fucking thing a necklace or give it a goddamn bubble bath or something before you rub your stupid dick all over it and fuck it in the ass until it shits itself all over the sheets to become the next goddamn Nicolas Cage movie. Or Ben Affleck movie. Ashton Kutcher, etc., whatever……