the art of false emotion

Very few people these days
Understand the fine art form
Of the erotic dancer
Radical right wingers
Will sneer and call them whores
While calling for the Christ-god
While
Bleeding heart liberals
Will cry and blame society
And its illness
Housewives will warn sons
About such women
Citing herpes and drugs
Father will nod in agreement
Then sneak away to see themselves
These drugged and diseased beasts
The mouth breathers around the stage
See huge glitter covered fake tits
And a shaved pink pussy dripping
And more makeup than a clown
And a shiny pole
Like a beacon for hardons
And they grunt
And yell
And fantasize
About these women
But I see it deeper
I sit there with my 8 dollar drink
And stack of George Ws
And see inside
I look beyond the fake blowjob
And winks and kisses
I see the clever pain under
The false emotions gleaming
I see the brilliant genius behind
This cunning cunt
She is not the victim my friends
We are

Blue Whale

it was our third date
i was confident i was going to get laid
everything was going great then
we went skinny dipping into the ocean and…
well…
we encountered a 105-foot blue whale
the biggest fucking creature on earth today
and i yelled at her
“STAY AWAY!”
but she was mesmerized
she swam up to it
“STOP IT!” “GET BACK!” i yelled
she started petting it
“NO, DON’T!”
“OH MY GOD!” she squealed
“IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL!”
and
well
she was petting it and hugging it
and all of the sudden a 12-foot-long,
1,000-pound penis jutted out
the biggest penis on earth
it attacked her
gored her, fucked her
into a million little pieces
amongst 40 pints of ejaculate
then it turned on me but
i was a safe distance away
and i made it to shore without a problem
the ocean is fucked
i’m never going in there again

Soak

Everything is temporary.
I speak in this tone
that brings home the fact
Life can be so dull.
It’s not all excitement of
laughter and kisses,
making money, being popular.
Sometimes,
Well, sometimes it is just
a warm soapy bath being
filled with tears of salt
to help heal your bones,
while you wish you were anywhere
but soaking in whatever this is.

Was it good for you?

…he says.

I always dread this conversation.
He cums
and he comes
loaded
with noise pollution.
If I ever prayed for anything,
it was for
a man
to shut the fuck up.

He wants the praise.
I just want the daze
of something
to remember
or forget.

I’m not like the
other girls.
You can really hit the spot
with your
rock-hard
silence.

I write poetry

once, I killed
a cockroach
with a Bible;
I still feel guilty
about it, the way
its guts pumped
as its broken legs
tried for a miracle
which was never
gonna come.

sure it was just
a cockroach,
but that’s the point.

tonight,
in this red wine
night,
I write poetry.

just words, simple
and useless words
that have never
saved anything
worth saving.

but that’s the point,
to try for a miracle
as you die.

Toucan

i drive off road
until i come across a flat wasteland
hundred degrees in AZ
no water
on E
no phone
there’s no going back
i smile
this’ll do
no humans in sight
might take a while to find me
which is alright
i imagine myself in a couple of months
being a dried out husk
maybe some vultures will pick me to the bones
i finger the barrel of my gun
then i see a bird in the distance
a big colorful bird
what the fuck is that
i aim my gun at it
i look through the scope
i think it’s a toucan
what the fuck is a toucan doing in Arizona
it sees me
and starts flying towards me
it must have escaped captivity
maybe a zoo
maybe a person’s house
it’s making distressed croaking noises
it flies down to me and sits on my shoulder
it’s all fucked up looking
like me
it rubs its beak on my cheek
i pet it
it cries
i cry
it’s OK
i’ll help you big guy

it’s alright
I’ll help you

bang

bang

sometimes these things write themselves

i was coming
home from the
store today

i drove past
a cemetery
and there
was a funeral
going on

i noticed the
song playing
on the radio
was another
one bites the
dust by queen

i laughed and
reached for pen
and paper