My Poetry, Jokes That Aren't Funny
Roses Are Red Violets Are Blue If you don't like my poems Then you can go screw
Friday, November 01, 2024
Moment; Time Travel
I was sitting on the toilet
I was thinking about time travel
I thought "If I can will myself to remember this moment in the future, it's time travel. I will have sent this moment to my future self."
It worked
I remember that time
Sitting on the toilet
That's the moment I chose
My wife's dream
Tuesday, October 29, 2024
Come and Join Me To Make Love (a found words poem)
Come and join me to make love
see lonely onlyfans girls
want to see my nude photos for free?
Big Boss Porn Sex
Hi, I'm still a virgin, look at my beautiful nipples
My neighbor's breasts are very big
I can't post my nude videos
I need someone to accompany me
Hi, no idea who you are but...
Friday, August 16, 2024
A love letter
I love all the various versions I've known of you
Looking at pictures of you before I met you, and I love her too
My best friend, my girlfriend, my fiancee, my wife
My lover, my partner, my life
I'll always be there next to you
I can't wait to meet the next you
And I know I'll love her too
Saturday, August 03, 2024
2021
Monday, July 22, 2024
Social Media
There are a couple of people who I've blocked on social media or who have blocked me on social media who I really enjoy seeing in the real world for hugs and coffee.
And there are some of you who I really like engaging with online and we just clam up and are awkward in real life.
And there are some of you I like both places, but in like, totally different ways, like I'm friends with the two different souls that possess your body.
And there are some of you who I can't stand, online or off but I like to keep an eye on you, or I like to have your eyes on me, to see that I'm doing cool shit, when I do cool shit, but then I worry I'm not doing enough cool shit.
I gotta go.
Got some cool shit to do.
Tuesday, July 02, 2024
Religious
It's been so long since I had religion
I don't know if I can quite remember what it's like
But I know that if I had religion now
It would have to be a spirituality of my own making
I know chocolate would hold a sacred position in rituals
As would coffee and hot baths
No stale wafers and chilly baptismal pools
The red wine could stay
I have fond memories of passing it
mouth to mouth
on the beach
This is how red wine is meant to be served
If I had religion
I would believe that any God
Looking down and seeing you,
Sweet Coal,
would have to smile at the way you lived the life they gave you
You would be immortalized in stained glass in any church of my making
The patron saint of life long adventure
Falafel
Falafel, more like falawesome
A food good enough to start a fight
as Egyptians, Greeks, Israelis, Palestinians, Iranians, and Lebanese all claim to be
the only ones who make it right
We give Hamburg credit for the hamburger
and we thank the French for fries
But falafel is so good everyone claims credit for it's inventions
and to make it better than those other guys
The world's most contentious food deserves better
This lovely fried and crispy treat
So let's stop all this bickering and fighting
and sit down now together and let's eat
Get yourself some falafel
Have it made every different delicious kind of way
Unless it's served with yogurt instead of tahini
in which then tell them blasphemous monsters to go away
Tuesday, June 04, 2024
Monday, March 11, 2024
Sacramento
I sit at the window
listening to traffic
I can feel the energy of my city
I can feel a million souls
moving
fighting
playing music
making music
dancing
walking
drinking
drowning worries
building and destroying
I can feel all this energy pass through me
like electricity moving through a wire
so many different frequencies
so many different textures, colors, flavors
flowing eventually together
if I can keep it from becoming ticklish
if I can keep it from burning
if I can just hold it, it's building
in me
as it pulses and finds a rhythm
a symphony of human motion
and emotions
it builds
it lifts me from my chair
I float up in my room
I find the center
I am equal distance from each of my walls
from the ceiling and from the floor
I start rotating
slowly at first
then spinning
faster
and faster
until all is a blur
all vision is blended, streaked, combined, overlapped until it is blackness
a living blackness
all sound combines, at first cacophonous
then droning, buzzing, tighter until it is silence
I explode
the energy of the city returns to the city
it takes me with it
I am part of it as it is a part of me
I wake up cold in bed
I step to my open window and listen to my city
I can hear the far off freeway
someone is singing
a car drives by with loud bass thumping
it grows louder and then fades
I close the window
shutting out the sounds of my city
in my small room
four white walls
as close as I ever get to silence
and I fall back to sleep
Tuesday, March 05, 2024
My Type
You
You're my type
When you were long and lanky and we twisted our limbs like branches growing rapidly together
When you're curvy and round and enough for me to get lost in
When you become old and so comfortably familiar it would be a struggle to recall what it was like not to have you near
My type is you
That Kid
That kid I used to be
Sometimes he seems like someone else
Someone I can sympathise with
Someone I wish I could help
Poor little shit, he didn't know anything
Today though
On my 52nd birthday
He was there in the mirror
Looking older
But still that same kid
Those same eyes
Starring back at me
I can help him
I can give him love
I do love him
Poor little shit
He knew so much
Thursday, February 15, 2024
Valentine's Day
I saw a Valentine's Day post
"Every second of every minute with you has been wonderful."
A sentiment I find unlikely
I argue reality is more romantic.
"The good times are so very good, they've made it worth getting through the horrendous times, and that's saying something, because we been through some shit!"
Tuesday, January 23, 2024
Victory!
"Come Celebrate, Comrades! We've done it! We have remade America as a Socialist Utopia at last! I've got a peppermint mocha for each of you!"
Wednesday, January 17, 2024
How can I read when there's writing to be done
I sit to read and the first page is brilliant and inspires me so, I hop up to write
I sit to write about life, and love and, reminded that these are happening all about me, I hop up to live
I spin in circles
possibility overwhelms me
I look at my phone
"Reading and writing today" I post as my status update
and just like that, I get several dozen reacts, likes, loves, and hugs
I'll try reading again later
Friday, January 12, 2024
Is It Cake?
Wednesday, January 03, 2024
Limerick
There once was a man from Nantucket
who knew he'd one day kick the bucket
This awareness of his mortal state
a sense of foreboding did create
and also, he had a comically large penis
Saturday, December 30, 2023
Success
I've worked very hard
And become a moderate success
Which is a shame
I could've been an epic failure
Monday, December 18, 2023
When you die
Many songs will become sad, full of sweet memories of you
as will songs you never have the chance to hear, ones I know you'd have loved
or hated
or laughed at me for loving
I already think of you every-time I go out for pizza
Not delivery
Just the singular glow of a dimly lit pizza place, with a videogame soundtrack
When you're gone, first slices will become a silent toast to you
You will haunt bike rides, and road trips,
and the fact that I never figured out how to play pool,
laughable horrible vegan foods that we buy anyway,
and remembering the love that is shared even in the middle of fights
A significant piece of me only exists because I know you
And it's a piece of me I share
You'll live on in people who never knew you
Just as in songs you've never heard
Wednesday, December 06, 2023
In a hotel in Przemysl
Sitting in an old Soviet era hotel in Przemysl Poland with jet lag insomnia
2 planes
4 trains
3 countries so far
Crossing an ocean in pursuit of adventure and I only dare hope it's a fraction as memorable and delightful as times I've walked just down the road to take your clothes off
Tuesday, September 18, 2018
My coworker the accidental poet (overheard at work)
Made me feel strong!
Now I'm tired
Thursday, September 13, 2018
I like goosebumps
I like chills
Know where I can score some endorphins?
I went on an all night sleep bender
Now Let's Rage
Look at the sky
I feel like a student again
not a feeling I enjoy
The teacher is at the front of the class talking
I'm sitting in a tiny chair having trouble concentrating
"We need this form signed, and a volunteer to coordinate these events..."
My mind keeps wandering off
She stops... "I'm sorry but, look at the sky."
We look out the window to catch a fantastic fall sunset swirl of blue, and pink, and grey
I am filled with joy at knowing my daughter has a teacher who will interrupt herself to point out a beautiful sky
Tuesday, September 11, 2018
9/ll memory
In this broken hour we function perfectly, like a precision instrument.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Campaigning
I've been lonely
Vote for me
I've been lost
Vote for me
I don't know what I'm doing
Vote for me
I'm helpless
Vote for me
My rent is late
Vote for me
I once ate at a Chinese restaurant with my last four dollars and when I found a hair in my food, I kept eating until I was almost done and then went and got my four dollars back, with my belly nice and full and I bought a wonderful cup of coffee and felt fine about myself.
Vote for me
Monday, March 06, 2017
Max in the window
with a leaf blower
Life is loud, sweaty, dusty
Hard to breath, hard to see
There's a knock on the window
and looking up, through squinting eyes,
There is my seven year old, Max
She is waving at me
She is grinning
a huge silly, happy, smile
Life is a miracle
She is inside, I am outside
but she can see me
I am in a storm of swirling leaves
and a racket of electric noise and wind
And she is in a still, quiet bedroom
and yet we are right next to each other
waving
Life is a miracle
A thing called glass exists
to allow us to coexist
in separate worlds
she's heard it's made of sand that's been heated
a magical process that facilitates this joy
she isn't thinking about that now
just celebrating the moment
Life is a miracle
She is done waving and off to create worlds
I am back to my chores with that grin
bigger than the universe
enveloping me
making me remember
Life is a miracle
You Can't Fire Me Because I Quit
there's this guy I know
and I can't stand him
I think he's a hypocrite
and a prick
and just so full of shit
And the last thing I wanted was to continue being his friend
But he decided to stop being my friend
before I got around to actively not being his friend
And instead of appreciating the favor he did me
and the trouble he saved me
It's
Driving
Me
MAD!
How dare he!
I honk at cats
as I drive down the street
They jump
They arch
They his
They spit
Their hair stands on end
I honk at cats
and I terrify them
They run
They panic
When a safe distance they turn
They stare
with huge saucer eyes betrayed
I honk at cats
when they're near the road
because there are things in life
one should be afraid of
Friday, December 04, 2015
Please listen carefully as our menu options have changed
Para Espanol, Oprima Numero Dos
Press number 3 for a general sense of malaise
Press number 4 if you're on the verge of committing a violent act
Press number 5 to try a free sample of our newest non dairy cheese spray
press number 6 if you feel like you have to get out but you don't know where you'd go
Press number 7 to be placed on our do not call list
Press number 8 to pull the plug
Press number 9 to be connected to a living person with compassion and understanding
Press number 0 to be disconnected
American Exceptionalism
Thursday, November 07, 2013
Ad Copy
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Left over
They were only one day old
I stopped her
The next day
They were a day older
I tossed them
Not all Superheroes wear capes
Monday, August 05, 2013
Turn Off, Tune out, Drop In
Her hat was flipped up and on the bill she'd written "Tune in, turn on, drop out."
I wanted to tell her "Hey, the guy that popularized that saying had a fucking book deal! And a nice degree to fall back on. Don't listen to that trust fund asshole."
Then I thought of her peers, most of whom were probably studying subjects they didn't care about on their way to work jobs they hated as they watched the years race by at amazing speeds.
So, I bought her something warm to drink and shared more practical advice. "Hey, having this drink in your hand they have to let you sit inside where it's dry and warm."
She said "Thanks man." in a really sincere voice that made me want to give her a hug. I drove back to my shitty job.
Fuck Timothy Leary.
They're gonna send a car
That I don't do
But they don't fire me
I don't know why
I'm gonna be interviewed
on basic cable
they're gonna send a car
I can't pay my bills
without this ruse
consolation prize?
They're gonna send a car
You may think I'm failure
I get older and older
I still have this day job
but they're gonna send a car
Sweetheart
love of my life
I know it's hard
but they're gonna send a car
Someday
we'll get there
believe
we're on our way
they're gonna send a car
(And when the interview is done
the car is gonna bring me back.)
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Brown Colored Glasses
"The world is shit"
The Master, whose real name was Frank, repeated
as he flipped an order of hash-browns, extra crispy, on the grill.
"You ever scratch your ass
and then pick your nose
and then wander off wondering why everything smells like ass?
Blow your nose
Wash your ass
Quit being such a party pooper
Bring the man his hash browns, and then lets go suck the nitrous out of the whipped cream canisters in the walk-in
Life is good."
Thursday, December 29, 2011
That Smell
When I'm grappling with a loss
and you're the only comfort
That the smell bothers me most
You hold me, and I am glad to be held
and it's just what I need
but the damned smell is there
The smell of rich men selling cancer to the poor
The smell of your life growing shorter
and our quality of life being degraded
The smell of stale cigarettes infused into your skin
overpowering the wonderful smell that should be there
and adding it's scent to our best moments
Monday, September 14, 2009
Hurrah
a few touches of that lovely Halloween orange here and there
a tiny field of dry beige corn surrounded by still green trees
I cheer like sports fan at seeing Fall's first peek over the horizon.
All alone in a van on the interstate, I'm cheering and then grinning ear to ear
So excited because this is a fall I'll never forget.
This fall I will meet my daughter.
It makes it less painful to remember the other unforgettable Falls because gone is the anxiety that unforgettable falls are only behind and not ahead.
And I make a commitment to my daughter and my wife that there will always be unforgettable falls
behind
and ahead.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Brand Loyalty
It says "Drink Pepsi" now, across it
It is hoped that I'll reach heaven
And God will thirst for the product
But I'll probably go
Down Below
And the devil will know
I cashed the checks from Pepsi Co
But I always drank Coke
Monday, January 15, 2007
Sullen
I'd been sullen once
Adults would say to me, "Cheer up.
It isn't that bad."
What did they know.
It was that bad,
of this I was certain.
Now, as these sullen teens pass me,
I do not want to tell them to cheer up.
But I have that foolish thought
that they could benefit from my wisdom and experience...
"Hey, don't worry guys,
eventually you get used to it."
Monday, December 11, 2006
The Mayans
But here they were.
Short, stout people, selling silver trinkets to tourists.
"My silver is not plated." they all repeated as you walked by their booths.
Pause in front of any of their tables and you'd be treated to the same joke.
"For you wife." as they hold up a silver necklace, "Not plated."
"For your girlfriend" as they hold up a pretty pair of earrings, "Not plated."
And the punchline, a giant machete, held threateningly, "For your mother in law." delivered with Henny Youngman inflection and a big silly grin.
Many of them spoke no English beyond these lines and you were forced to conjure an image of the traveling salesman that sold them these plated trinkets and bad jokes. Hell, he done more for them than I had or would. He'd certainly not cheated them as badly as Miss Shepherd had.
Step into a tent and you'd see that there were worse things than extinction.
The Mayan gods, represented in sculpture, fucking each other, doggy style, sixty-nine, missionary, wheel barrow. You'd pay extra for the threesome, sculpted in rough red clay, you know, to make them really authentic.
What should have happened
"This is what should have happened." He began. "And don't take offense that if this had happened you wouldn't be here. You're all the product of my cowardice but you're not the punishment for it, you're the only thing that makes it bearable. The potential I've wasted is still alive in all of you, so please, don't fuck it up."
And here began the tale. The long twisted story of every orgy, every fight every suicide. He told of dying over and over, starving, fevers, he told of sweating, fucking, kicking. He talked of roads, roads that led everywhere and never took you to the same place twice. We all listened attentively to his tale of madness and gluttony and sweetness and indulgence.
When it was over the old man stood, and walked out of the house as we all stared in silence. He went to his room where he spent a few months reading and slowly losing his senses. When he died he didn't seem to even recall who he was.
It was another few months before any of us spoke of his story. Odd to discover none of us heard exactly the same tale. I seemed to have gotten the craziest version of it. My brother caught more about meditation and prayer. Maybe that was in there, though I hadn't heard it, but I'm quite sure my niece is wrong in thinking that the old man shared recipes with us, though I must admit the bread she started making was delicious, unlike anything I'd ever tasted.
Was it a peculiar magic the old man possessed? Or were we, his many descendants, just really shitty listeners?
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Random Bad Thought
If I was going to go on a crazed killing spree, I'd probably go in to the co-operatively owned health food market, guns blazing. When the killing was done I'd climb behind the deli/bakery counter and eat healthy vegan cakes and cookies until the cops brought me down.
If you love something
Set it free
If it comes back to you
It's probably hungry and confused
If it doesn't
Something else probably ate it
Monday, October 30, 2006
Bryna
peeling each piece of tape
lifting and smoothing out the wrapping paper
each present offering a strip tease
the dance of the seven veils
the veils in this case made up of paper
covered in candy canes and wreaths
I have tried this technique
I have endeavored to savor the unveiling
I peel one piece of tape, slowly
until I hear a rip and
before
I
know
what
I've
done
the
paper
is
crumpled, discarded, the box upside down, the present revealed, and the next gift sought madly, to be consumed in a similar rush until at last, I'm done, out of breath, out of gifts, and
even
slightly
dizzy.
Maybe this year I'll let Bryna open my gifts for me.
I will enjoy the winter
I will enjoy the winter
Not just the fall
This year
I will enjoy the winter
beyond the nostalgia of the first cold winds
This year
I will enjoy the winter
the city continuing to hum hours after the sun sets
the hats and gloves and coats
the sting on my ears as I pedal my way to work
the soups, spice cakes, pots of hot tea
and the warmth of your hand in mine
Sunday, September 17, 2006
dialogue
"They're not in the same place."
"Okay..."
"The raisins are in aisle 11, the baby food is in aisle 15, but you know, you can't feed raisins to a baby."
"Yeah, they're for me. I don't have a baby."
"But you asked for baby food."
"Yeah, I need some, aisle 15, thanks."
"Okay, it just seems weird, you don't..."
"Look, the baby foods for me. I'm shitting blood alright!"
"Oh."
Monday, August 07, 2006
The Socket
a rare moment of solitude
a brief window of privacy
I unplug the lamp
sit on the floor, with it in my lap
unscrew the bulb and set it gently on the carpet
I extend my pointing finger
look at it
real
right there in front of me and then
I start it moving
toward the lamp
toward the socket
I know it's unplugged
dead
and unable to hurt me
there's nothing to fear
but I'm afraid anyway
and I love it
I push past the fear
inching, slowly, closer, closer
at last my my finger is floating in space
inside the socket
not touching, just resting in the middle
my eyes close involuntarily
as I push that last half inch
the cold metal connections against the tip of my finger
A charge rushes through me
a charge of exhilaration, panic, ecstasy.
The bulb is returned to the socket
the lamp placed back on the table
plugged back into the wall
and I get ready for bed
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Death Envy
for getting jealous at the funeral
But why should the deceased get all the attention
So many nice things they're all saying about him
What about me
You can start with, "Keith Lowell Jensen, he really knows how not to die!"
Monday, June 12, 2006
numb
I had a good reason to now
it seemed
You'd gotten mad at me
I hate that
So I pretended to be mad at you
I went through the motions
I acted out the way I thought I should be feeling
making up for the fact that I wasn't feeling much
you of course didn't catch the game
responding with real emotions
the kind that don't go away when I want to stop playing, wrap around you and go to sleep
Poetry Weather
It's a delightful tease as we've already felt the first hints of the coming oven that is this city's summer
I'm sitting outside and I'd put on a jacket if I had one, but I'm glad I don't
I drink my tea and eat my brownie
A small bird is having a rough day
The weather has tricked him and he's out in the cold
nobody is around to share their sandwich crumbs with him
"Sorry buddy, this wouldn't be good for you.
Ah, fuck it. It aint good for me either.
You can decide for yourself."
The wind blows under the blue sky and I sit sharing a brownie with the small bird.
Friday, December 30, 2005
The Rain
and it's beautiful when it stops
everything is clean
it all smells the way it supposed to
like it's alive
even the bricks and the concrete
If only it weren't so cold
I'd run out in the downpour
I'd open my mouth
I'd let the rain wash the blood from my insides
I'd feel alive and right
Saturday, December 24, 2005
God Saves
I'm on fire
for the lord
I'm spending money
I'm spending money for the lord
God saves
Leave the saving to him
Don't save your money
just have faith
Have a little faith
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Name Tag
On my shirt it sits
"I'll take the x-large, Ben" he says
Ordering as he's reading it
I did not give him my name
as is custom among friends
but I'm not offended by the yuppie
my name isn't really Ben
Monday, December 19, 2005
Danny
It's a strange thing to share with a casual work aquaintence
but Danny's been around
and managed to maintain his innocence through a hell of a tough life
"Death is the enemy" he answers
Monday, October 31, 2005
The Hallmark Moment
a good day to not own a car
walking with my sweetie
a big pile of leaves
and she
can not
resist
She shoves me
and using kung fu
learned from sunday matinees
I whip around
and she
lands in
the pile
Her laughter was expected
His siren was not
The would be hero
stepped from his black and white
"You're lucky she came up laughing." he tells me, threateningly
Since she did
couldn't you have just smiled
and enjoyed the fall day?
I think to myself, but I don't say a word
Her and I stand
and stare
bewildered
He gets back behind the wheel and leaves
taking our perfect Hallmark moment with him
Friday, October 28, 2005
Product of an urban environment
stalagtites, stalagmites
bats
complete and total darkness
"Cool,
This is like Disneyland."
I took off my hat
And walked to work in the cold
as the sun rose behind the clouds
It was glorious
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
On Oprah Today
She was there because
One of THEM heard her songs
And recorded them
And now she’s being welcomed into the fold
She says "I can’t believe I’m here "
And THEY both laugh, remember when THEY were us
And we feel that if she could be there, we could be there
But we can’t
And we won’t
The beautiful singer will will not laugh at our shyness
Oprah will not cry with us
Some day we’ll die
And our songs will be forgotten
Somewhat slightly quicker than THEIRS will
Thursday, September 29, 2005
The Light
I shout
to the unapproving stares of relatives
as my grandpa lies dying
Don't Go Into The Light
I've seen moths do it,
and the results are not desirable
And besides there will be time later,
the light aint going anywhere
The light has always been and always will be
So take your time and haunt this world
Never mind the well intentioned living,
who urge you on
They'll have their time
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Alex
“Hi, this is Alex. I’m calling you through my voice mail.”
His voice is calm and soothing.
I probably owe him money.
I don’t know because I always hang up.
It’s a policy and one must stick to policy.
The United States of America does not negotiate with terrorists
And I don’t talk to machines
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Friday, September 23, 2005
The Comedian's Creed
My act will not be made up of one-liners and cheap segues
My take on improv is that it’s little more than a cheap parlor trick
No fat girl jokes
No shock jock, morning radio DJ humor
No political, topical, hot button ha has
No fart jokes
I can’t stand comedy magicians
I won’t do impersonations
I do not juggle, I have no props, I’m not wearing a costume
Knock Knock
Someday
Someday
I’ll write you a love poem
And I’ll manage to contain
My excitement
And refrain
From calling you from work
And whispering sweet words
Just out of earshot of coworkers
I’ll leave it on your pillow
And let it start your day
With a reminder, that I am so thrilled
Everyday
Because you are my girl
Pants Don't Fit Me Right
My life flashed before my eyes
Just as I’d heard it would
But the scenes were not of my first love sitting in an empty apartment wearing white
Or of the pain as she drove down that ally for the last time
There were no scenes of the hirings and firings that had dragged me up and down the ladder of human accomplishment
Not a single image scrolling past held the face of my dear sweet mother
I was confused by image after image of various tailor shops I’d passed
My cloths, hairline and posture reflected the decade
Taylor shops have always looked the same
Friendship tailor on 16th, Alterations while-u-wait in Los Angeles, The Tidy Tailor in Portland Main
I would never have believed that in one lifetime a body could have passed so many tailor shops
Some I remembered, having walked past them many times in my daily grind
Others were forgotten shops I’d walked quickly past, my thoughts not on my hem-lines
I inquired into the strange collage of tailors passed when I later had the opportunity to chat with The Creator
Though I suspect he was more of a department store Creator
On of The Creators “helpers”
Like Santa, he has many
He told me that the great slide show of death shows the dying only the defining moments of their life
And as I stared into his steel gray eyes I didn’t need to hear another word
Understanding flooded into me
Pants Don’t Fit Me Right
I never had the figure that pants on the rack were meant to adorn
Nude, I did not appear particularly unique
It was all a matter of inches
My ass started an inch to high
My pelvis tilted forward the slightest degree
I was a body in need of a custom fit
But I had not considered myself the tailored type
I’d aspired to transcend the vanity of those who spend their time and money on getting the perfect fit out of their trousers
My energies were spent on attempts at bettering myself
I read the important books
I watched my diet as best I could and jogged whenever I’d been seduced by a pint of Ice Cream
I worked hard and kept my eyes open to opportunity
Men with a better fit shot past me toward the executive offices
I turned my attention to my extra circular activities
I wrote my stories, and poetry
But I was never the darling of the café scene
Those with mannequin-like physiques stole my adoration
Men who’d developed a friendship with the Friendship Taylor had better adventures to write about
They’d been invited to taste of more passion,
had been let in on the secrets of every bar, beach and dark ally
Women, slave to the Darwinian impulses that govern us all had not been able to get past this defect that they were not even consciously aware of.
The sloppy way my pants hung, unevenly from my faulty waist had advertised to all “UNSUTABLE FOR BREEDING”
A bright neon sign, flashing on and off, all my life
If only I’d known
My Girlfriend is Gorgeous
My Girlfriend is gorgeous
With long luscious hair
She wears tank top tees
With low slung pajama pants
And she makes Iced Tea
Jackets
Every time someone dies I get a jacket
I’ve got more jackets than I can ever wear
From uncle Joe’s corduroy to Grandpa Eddie’s leather
If they go to heaven I pray it aint cold there.
I’ve been to my fair share of funerals
I’ve seen my relatives aged and bereaved
And though it makes me feel guilty
I’ve eyed all the jackets I’ll soon receive.
I Love Your Face
I love your face
When I can’t sleep
I’ll look at your face beautiful in sleep
When I wake up
Yours is the first face I see
I look at your face beautiful in that half dreaming morning daze
When you talk
Your full lips telling me of your strange nocturnal adventures
Your eyes widening
I look at your face beautiful in that state of wonderment
When we lay together in the afternoon
And your eyelids are half closed
I run my finger along your cheek and across your lips
I look at your face beautiful waiting to be kissed
(for Bryna)
I have an abnormaly large forehead
I have an abnormally large forehead
I’ve heard all the jokes, like;
“That’s not a forehead that’s a five head”
six head
seven head
Eight head ha ha ha
It’s been this way since I was a kid
In those days I looked like some kind of freak and people either thought I was one of those brainy child prodigies or they figured I was retarded
As an adult people just assume I’m balding
I preferred being a retard.
I Don't Go To Parties
I don’t go to parties
I only like large crowds when I’m on stage
Well lit, with a microphone in my hand
I know what to say to them
I know what they’re looking for
I give it to them
or I don’t
Either way, they leave
I go home
I don’t go to parties
Three Line Poem
You’re caring for me and treating me sweetly
Has given me a sense of nostalgia for colds and teeth pullings
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Fucking Neighbors!
Then
Late last night
Or maybe early this morning
Something woke me
I was startled
At hearing any noise
So close
While the world remained
So dark
But then I recognized that wonderful happy sound
I listened for a moment
And then turned to press against your back