Tag Archives: Rob Thomas

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


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?


don’t be fraught


A Month Without Nickel

9 Mar

A Month Without Nickel


Sleep is an old vacuum cleaner from the 1950’s

The kind they used to sell door to door

Most now buried and the ones still around

Don’t really work anymore


And when I do sleep

The dreams eat all the floors

Until I wake up perpetually exhausted again

With no safe place left to stand


I miss everything about her

Even the things that used to piss me off


I miss her reverse Hitler mustache

And the way she’d leave old action figure twist ties

And other random shit like ham in the middle of my futon

For me to find when I returned home from work on the weekdays


I miss the way she used to follow me everywhere

When I was in a bad mood and she’s slap her paw

Against me face every time my face needed slapping


In that way she had

That seemed to say

Hey, we’re alive


Life is hard

But we’ve got each other

Cat logic goddamn it

We’re gonna be ok


I don’t have that anymore

I’ve lost my best friend

And that reassurance that came

With the two of us simply

Being together in the same room


I miss the way she’d crawl beneath the blankets

On the long nights when my mind was surrounded

By all the beautiful things that have left me


I miss the way she’d chase me up the stairs

And I miss the way she’d manage to break into the basement

And I miss the way she’d scream for cat treats

At the top of her lungs when she was breathing




I miss you so much

That I have a hard time believing that you’re gone

And fuck I’m so sorry

I took you for granted

When I took you that way


Like we tend to take

All the things that keep us going

For granted


You’re buried in the back yard now


And I’m whatever I am

And I am now also the backyard

You’re buried in me


And I will carry you until

Until my legs turn to dust

And then I’ll carry you some more


Because fuck it

Death cannot stop us

Because I refuse to let it


And I know

Wherever you are

That you refuse to let it

To stop you too


And p.s. also

Shutter Island also misses you madly

And says: hello


A Bottle Of Mustard

6 Oct



A Bottle Of Mustard


It sounds weird doesn’t it?

We both agreed

It sounds weird


Like a trombone of toothpaste

Or a birdhouse of gin


People don’t say it that way

Despite the fact that mustard packers

Have been packing mustard in bottles

For a (completely made up number) of years


So many years that it makes time

Look like a vibrator murdered in frosting……..


A battalion of soy sauce

A suitcase of mayonnaise

A quiet syringe of pumpkins


You don’t really hear people

Refer to mustard that way

We both agreed on this

We’d never heard anybody say something like:


Please pass the bottle of mustard, Angelita? or

Brad, did you remember to pick up

That bottle of mustard you said you’d pick up

At the Assorted Condiments store?


[Historical note: the answer to one of these things

Was ‘no’, hence their sequel quickly re-titled:

Mr. and Mrs. Divorce]


(I can’t believe you forgot the goddamn bottle of mustard

Again, goddamn it! What am I supposed to feed the kids!?

You dick!


Some of us have a hard time letting things go)


A guillotine of salami

A tube of your beauty

A filing cabinet of laughter alphabetized by fun


“I can’t believe you ate an entire bottle of mustard, Brad?”


People don’t talk that way, do they?

We didn’t think they did

(Where’d our parking lot go?)

We were almost sure of it


A hash pipe of pasticcios

(Is that really how you’re supposed to spell ‘pasticcios’?)

A Sheryl Crow of toilet paper

A full moon of Emily Blunt


A packet of mustard? That made sense to us

A jar of mustard sounding like plane ol’ common sense

But a bottle of mustard, nope


That just sounded wrong to us

Like a cornucopia of relish

Or President Trump




These are some of the many things we talked about

Before looking for our parking lot after

The Rob Thomas/Counting Crows Red Rocks show


[Historical note: Turns out the reason it took us

A couple of hours to get in the car was because

Our parking lot had slipped off on the tour bus

With the bass player from one of the bands,

Returning somewhat eventually with a 2016

Tour t-shirt and a bruised clit)




No raincoats were harmed in the writing of this poem


(A candelabra of potato salad

A nalgene of celery

A salt water aquarium of love)

I Don’t Have Poop In My Butt

26 Nov

matchbox twenty


look at the light picking a fight

with the stress ball

shadows just laying there like a fist kick

in the nuts                         (stop)


what are you doing for the big Holiday, Helen?

Ya, right. That sounds lovely

I’ve got a Chef Boy R Dee pizza in the other room

I’ve got a stress ball over there, weeping in the corner


with its nuts up in a recently punched in sling

I’ve got access to a small army of movies on Netflix and I’m stuck with

this future-ly projected memory of what I’m pretty sure it might be like


to be with this specific someone that is someone other than you .

I know, right? Lord knows I’ve done enough of the all this bitching

about everything, but; Her eyes are like etc., I mean.


If we don’t count Rob Thomas:

Who knew?

What’s Good Nadal?

12 Sep



What’s Good Nadal?


What’s good Nadal?

I hear you’re in New York now

and that the US Open’s through with you


That’s rough

Have you heard the new Rob Thomas album yet?

Did you just spend the entire day eating pizza?


You should head down to Central Park

I once saw a turtle there the size of a Big Wheel

I once stood in front of the David Letterman sign

in front of the Ed Sullivan Theater with a woman

who loved me


I can’t remember because I don’t give a shit


were you ever on that show?

That’s curious

Do you plan on sharing the story of your brand new recent loss

with Stephan Colbert anytime soon?


Do you know how much weed that one kid

in the Final Destination franchise has in his pockets right now?

You sound upset to me

Do you have rhetorical change for a quarter?


What’s your favorite sun flower?

Mine’s the Helianthus

No I didn’t have to look that up!


but I did right now

a few minutes ago

I just peed in the kitchen sink

because there’s nobody around

to tell me not too

That’s ridiculous




If you could pee in anything without getting shit for it

what would that thing that you pee into be?


Don’t answer that

Thank you

I don’t want to know



Are you listening?!


Does your balogna really have a first name or not?

Mine doesn’t

That’s gross*

Mine’s got 97 nicknames

but a specific style of luncheon meat’s not one


I feel bad about myself for writing that last line

but not bad enough to erase it


That’s what it’s like being me

Is that what it’s like being you




I’d think it probably would be


But what do I know?

I’ve never liked you

but I don’t like the dude who beat

you, maybe, even more


which has me thinking


Do I have to start rooting for you now?

Because I know we’ve had our problems

and I really don’t want to do it

but if you keep losing like this to that guy

I feel like I’m going to start rooting for you




as in: Oh well


life is weird

like that



Can I call you Nadal?

Can anything save everything?

Can you tell me what’s good?


*Donnie Darko, ya’ll