Tag Archives: writing

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

#we’llAlwaysHaveWhatWeHadAndDeadwoodbut

 

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

 

#everytinginchargeisrediculous

 

That was one hell of a shot

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Even My Teeth Are In Love With You

31 Aug

 

Even My Teeth Are In Love With You

 

At the dentist

They were playing Dido

 

They were fluffing their nipples against all the Novocain

They were comparing their own

Previous night’s erections to tooth decay on nitric

Slapping old ‘I Voted’ stickers atop their visible hickys

Attempting to un-memorize the plot

(moves the pawn a space or two)

 

While I sat in the space chair waiting for my x-rays

Reading more Chekov while wearing

That blue hat surrounded

By spit sinks and drill bits glazed in goodbyes

 

Eventually,

 

A raven approached, offering the deluxe co-pay quaking cleaning

In easy to feel bad about installments

And it was the end of the month, where I have no money, so

I told the goddamn bird that I wasn’t Poe

And that I’m pretty sure Chekov wouldn’t have

Put up with this shit, thusly and things like that

I sidestepped the big bill

(chess moves hounded by chess moves)

And chose the free polish option they offered after

I threw what could be considered a mini-fit

Instead

 

Still, on the way out I agreed to call them later

To schedule an appointment for the expenso-clean

Because what else am I going to do?

Your Queen controls the board and

I’ve grown used to my teeth

And everything at some point finds itself

Dependant on a cleaning

 

That said (hits the ‘play again’ button

Or whatever it’s called on the remote control thingy

In order to hear the new Taylor Swift single again)

 

It just pisses me off

Everything is made out of somethings

And it’s always something

 

Why does everyday have to feel like

The guy playing chess with Death in ‘Seventh Seal’

To the sounds of a surf war, thick step after thick step

For the ability to tread water

 

Historical Note:

 

If they made The Seventh Seal today

They wouldn’t be playing chess

They’d be playing something more intellectually relevant

To the times

They’d be playing Pokeemon Go

 

That’s what they’d fucking be playing!

Because life is just: Pokeemon Go?!

 

Maybe,

 

We spend our whole lives with our heads down

Tracking things that aren’t really there and pretending to catch them

In order to get us through to the next day

 

Just so we can go to the dentist, where we never fucking want to be

Just so we can get our hearts broken, weaved with the need to limp forward

Just so we can still fucking exist

First Night Without Jack

2 Jul

 

First Night Without Jack

 

Drought, with running water

Everything right

About this world was

Tethered inside you

How am I supposed to not be morbid now?

 

It looks like I picked the wrong day to stop missing things

So long, my generous-guru friend

 

Adios, Bird King

 

Death is a real dick, at all times

It gets hung up on its own girth and doesn’t

Connect its acts with what it’s doing

Kick it in the nuts for me, brother, sing us one more tune

 

for Jack Collom

Get out of the car, Donald: Covfefe

30 Jun

 

Get out of the car, Donald: Covfefe

 

The old man spit almonds at the liquor store clerk for coming

around to the other side of the counter in order to feed

the thin Doberman a health food store treat

(Sprouts was right next door)

 

“He shouldn’t have that!” the old man said, spit “I don’t mean to yell, but last night

he had hideous diarrhea. (Hideous) (I was standing behind him. Great word choice.

I was impressed)

 

I’ve scrubbed so much shit out of my living room carpet

that the pain in my wrists is the only thing I’ve got left,

as far as proof that I’m alive.”

 

The old man thought about death a lot and looked hollow

The dog’s asshole was sensitive and he looked dehydrated and sad

The liquor store clerk said she was sorry, she should’ve first asked

 

Covfefe stepped around me like a John Wick fight scene

his eyes grinning like the wrong kind of condiments

“Hey mister,” Covfefe said, “I’ll give you 47 hundred dollars for the dog.

 

But only if this place sells beef jerky. Do you sell beef jerky?”

The lady who worked there said that they did.

 

“Sold. The dog, and all the beef jerky. I pay you for the dog

and her for the beef jerky. 47 hundred. Do we have a deal?”

 

The old man quivered, fully aware that he was only 3 or 4 more dog shits

away from ending his own life. He didn’t want to die that way.

On top a shit stained carpet. Dog. Shit. Stained.

 

Fuck that, the old man said in his head.

They had a deal.

 

On the ride home I asked Covfefe why he’d bought the dog

“Why do you think?!” Donald said, because he was sitting in the back seat

like he’s always sitting in the back seat. That’s what he does now.

He lives in the back seat. He pays people large bucks to provide him with

an unlimited amount of shit he orders from the Info Wars website and Kentucky Fried Chicken.

He won’t get out of the car.

 

He runs everything from back there

He’s the real thing #prick

so why would he?

 

“He bought the dog because they had beef jerky and the dog has diarrhea and we’re taking it

back to your place. Covfefe! Keep the dog away from my chicken! Can you comprehend what

I’m doing to you right now? I’d fucking think so.

aka Win/Win/Win.”

 

I tried to ignore Donald but it’s impossible.

He’s a big dickish mess.

And I told him that

 

“The only thing I regret,” Donald said “is that I never played golf

with Evel Knievel.”

 

and for the first time, I believed him

and I drove home

embalmed with that and all these memories

we’ll never see again

 

All these times that are now dead for us

Shit

The times that are dead

Covfefe

29 Jun

Covfefe

 

As the ashtrays pop like a steady invasion of phone-cams

and cream cheese

We all scream into the same bucket of water

We can all feel our own tanks slowly chipping away, under fire

Until the only thing left are the treds………….

 

Are you watching Fury again?. Covfefe asked the question like a statement

because I was always watching Fury again these days

I was always praising Brad Pitt’s performance

as a broken souled tank driver or sketching Hitler mustaches

just below the crotches of shitty modern day billionaires

or reading about Winston Churchill out loud

 

Since the election of this new goddamn reality show president

I’d become significantly obsessed with masturbation and not sleeping well

and learning lots of things about World War 2

 

Leave me alone, Covfefe. I said

Which made Covfefe laugh

Which was horrible, because a Covfefe laugh

sounds like the cross between Tom Cruise farting during a meter reading

and Ricardo Montalban waking from death screaming

because he’s spent the past chunk of years

dreaming about how he accidentally killed Tattoo  

 

Leader gets two scoops of ice cream

when everyone else in the room gets only one

Covfefe gloated

One scoop because America is so gullible

and one scoop because it’s arrogant about its ignorance

and  still pretty fucking racist

so: shit

 

That makes 2.

 

One + One……..I mean, I don’t know

where you learned math but where I learned math

we always said the pledge of allegiance before pooping

and didn’t eat our bologna sandwiches like afraid-of-mayonnaise pussies

I can tell you, with complete straight bullshit honesty,

that where I come from one + one: makes two

 

Covfefe! I found myself screaming voluntarily, Knock it off

Your shitty math hole

can’t tell algebra and a shark’s asshole

apart, how the fuck do you expect…….

 

Covfefe’s response was immediate

and misdirected

 

Love is for people.

I think my sister really likes you

Knock it off

Sink

9 Jun

Sink

aka Where were they supposed to go after this?

 

Their love

was like a sink

  1. another color named by robots
  2. something assholes threw unfinished plates of spaghetti in

or crusted bowls of overtly-andante sadness

burnt toast

and jacked up forks

 

Their love was a graffiti torn sink

built to hold history and spoons,

a partially consumed sponge

 

and to once in a while, occasionally, piss in

when it’s late and the world’s too heavy to walk on

and the bathroom is all the way up the stairs

 

don’t judge me!

 

there is a beach in my pocket

where time drinks alone

and the bladder gets circled by sharks

 

so I sink

 

because up the stairs is a long way to travel

when you’re this alone

and the moon insists on poking

 

and you’ve really gotta pee

Bank Butt

3 Jun

Bank Butt

 

Hey, Bank Butt

 

Is that where you keep your cautiously-horded investments these days?

Because I’m in need of some saving

and I wouldn’t have thought of keeping it there

 

I’d like to apply for a debit card

What exactly would be the process………….Wait!

I mean, if I ain’t thought of something like that already

(ergo: stashing such things in the butt)

What other things have I forgot to think about?

 

(insert alternate curse-type word for ‘shit and/or fuck: there)

 

What if sharks love Rice Crispy Treats more than people?

My penis is not bigger than that cake pan, damn it

How long has it been again exactly, that I’ve been this

alone?

 

Bank Butts,

A new term made to represent a robot’s interpretation of color

but (not butt)

what are robots supposed to know about finance and anaL?

 

Finance: Shit, most likely a bunch, actually

(Historical Note: as soon as the robots learn greed

like the robots have already learned greed: we’re fucked)

Anal: either,

Pretty much everything there is to be known about all of it

(I miss you)

or …………. nothing at all