One day, a man on an island looked up at the stars and noticed one of them was laughing at him. "What's your problem?" the man asked. The star replied, "You're talking to me yesterday."
A Memory in a Box
a coffee cup
a bowl with some dried up old rice
paint, red and green
a big graffiti canvas that says,
"yard sale - free abortions"
receipts and bills all crunched into balls
lysol, jergens natural glow tan lotion
get color on your skin--no sunlight required
dvds: unrated caligula, south park, every
movie by werner herzog, lots of pictures
from the 80s
back in the 40s they called movies 'pictures'
now movies are thieves
sleeping cat on the dirty futon
a carpet made of stains, dirt, and puke
picture on the wall of a friend
who is still alive but pretty much dead
boxes and bags of memories
lonely, hungry and scared
peeling walls full of edible lead potato chips
an air-conditioner running 24-hours
a day that cools nothing but its own coils
curtains from the dollar store
unnatural colors hinting of halloween
christmas lights, holes in the walls,
the roaches don't even come in here
three locks on the door with a
man-sized opening I kicked out of it when I
accidentally locked the keys inside
and me, shirtless in my designer lobster shorts
purchased on credit for which I have
no money nor inclination to pay
i'd jerk off,
but what would be the point?
i have always thought
the way to go was all in
the half-way people
just get in the way
half-way, by the way
and you have to kick those fuckers
out of your way, all the way
when you run out of gas
push a little further
when you get too drunk to drink,
just have one more
besides, gas is more expensive
that fun ever was
an empty tank means something
a half-way tank will never understand
half-way never mattered
one way or the other
and fun is more expensive
than one more beer ever was
they were camping
no! you stupid girl
don't go off on your own
crap, she's dead
jenny is going to look for her
i'll go with you
no brad, you stay here and keep an eye out
i have a knife, don't worry
brad waits. no, you stupid dude!
oh shit. he's stabbed
jenny goes into the darkness
no jenny, he's right there in the rafters
she finds the first girl mutilated
the monster pops out
she screams we scream
she drops the knife.
he's right behind you
oh shit, she tripped
she's up again, the monster
is gaining on her
she just makes it
to the car
killer's beating on it
with his fists
her hand shakes
she can't get the key in
oh, thank god, she's got it in
shit! car won't start.
can you believe it?
oh my god!
killer jammed his claw through the roof
she's screaming we're screaming
car starts! thank the Christ,
the car starts!
she guns it
killer goes flying off the back
or so we thought
he's there in the back seat.
how'd he do that?
long story short
and the killer is completely dead
killer is alive again
he grabs her and screams
we scream she screams
same thing happens in
Camp Monster from Hell II, III, IV, V, VI,
and the reboot franchise, Camp Monster 3D I, II, III, IV,
after V, it started to feel gimmicky...
when you're writin a poem
you can't just write stuff
you gotta' do some metaphor
you gotta' say stuff is like other stuff
like you gotta' say
this poem is like a turd
or this poem turds...
you know, somethin poetic
otherwise, you're just writin stuff
and writin stuff ain't no poem
it's just you bein a dick
i have 2000 friends on facebook
i started a fund-raising campaign to
pay last month's rent because
the economy has tanked and on
top of that i am a terrible manager
being a full-time college student
on the dean's list with a full ride scholarship
and a 3.9 grade point average
a job as a bartender, and a member of a
successful and popular local band, as well
as an artist, poet, writer, and host of a legendary show
is not enough to make my meager ends meet
so far, it has been two weeks--i have managed
to raise nothing, zero, nada
of 2000 friends, one promised to send money and did not do so,
one brought me a six-pack of Guinness, soup, and $40, and one
graciously donated a bag of potatoes (they are delicious).
so i have decided to spend money i don't have
from a new credit card which recently arrived (they
give you credit when you are poor), to buy
a steak and lobster dinner and a really fucking
expensive glass of wine at the best restaurant in
town. that's my plan. it's a good plan.
i will chew this all up using 2000 bites on the tooth
where the filling just fell out of what was originally
going to be a successful root canal and crown
only kings have enough money for a crown
and then i will drink a boat load of rum
and come home to sit with my cat in the remaining days
before the electricity goes off and the eviction letter arrives
and i will watch cartoons, or maybe the unrated version of
Caligula or something from the 80s and think about
how nice it might have been to be a better person than the
shit-heel i turned out to be. I could have worked in a bank and
raised children and gone to the Bahamas on a ship
and had steak and lobster there on my corporate vacation money
before I died, instead of committing every last ounce of my worth
to pretend to be that guy just for a day because it made me feel
as if i had something to offer. interestingly enough, $2000 dollars is all that's required
to save my ass for two more months until the checks arrive for next semester
and I can suck-up on the money the gubment stole from everyone to fund my career.
that's a dollar a friend. a dollar a friend. a dollar a friend.
looking back, this bit isn't even poetic. it's just the ramblings of a
half-hearted ideologue, which means: one given half-way to fanciful ideas.
if only the reality were half as fanciful as my ideas, i could have been somebody.
i could have been a contender instead of a bum,
which is what i am.
when i awaken
i see nothing but festering maggots
the light is green
why aren't the cars going
green means go
can i ask you a question?'
get to the point, asshole, you want money!
don't give me the story, man
everybody has the same story
one day, a man will just take what he wants
i'd prefer it straight like that
not maggoty. not maggot-like.
for god's sake, stand up and be somebody
don't be a maggot
i am forever in line behind maggots
a festering line that does not move
lines are supposed to move, not stand there
fucking maggots everywhere
'do you have twenty-three cents?'
no maggot, i have only dollar bills
sorry to disappoint you, maggot
'i am mute. do you have a cigarette?
give me a cigarette because i am mute.'
you're not mute, I hear you talking
you're speaking maggot
everything is rotting
from teeth to skin and then
there is gravity
we are, all of us, going down
into the dirt of the Earth
and an old tale is told
of a soul that will float off to
the land of milk and honey
or the kingdom of fire
maggots wrote that story
the truth is this: you go out of hell and
out of the land of milk and honey
to maggot land!
that's where you go!
you go straight to maggot land!
the light is green
the cars do not move, nor do the lines
and a man approaches
he beats your skull in
with a brick and takes from you
twenty-three cents and a cigarette
he festers away to a garbage can house
you call after him, 'thank you. finally. thank you."
he does not reply because
he is mute.
he was having a wet dream
about a sexy woman about to bend over
when he rolled out of bed
fracturing his boner
he crawled to the phone
and pulled it off the counter
onto his head
along with a lamp
his wife found him
and drove him to the hospital
wrecking on the way with a boy on a bike
the ambulance took everyone
and in surgery to repair the damage
both the boy died and the penis was severed
one was the result of an epileptic seizure
when the nurse brought
the wrong medication
he was having a wet dream
about a sexy woman riding sidesaddle on his face
the stitches popped
hypersensitivity, angioedema, allergic rhinitis
he has brain damage now
and has forgotten everything
except for everything that went wrong
and also that his wife was praying
for God to forgive them
for everything else
"I'm looking at an apple."
"No you're not, I say. You're looking at a pear."
"An apple, says I."
"Support your claim with evidence."
"Okay, you fuckin' maggot. We agree that both an apple and a pear are a plant ovary?"
"No sir, we do not agree. Are we talking fruit here?"
"It's a plant ovary, you cock-sucking wretched fat farting skunk-ape."
"You already lost, dickhead. If it's an ovary, how's it going to be a pear? Or an apple for that matter?"
"One thing is another, you Jew bastard."
"I'm not Jewish. If I was, wouldn't I be black?"
"I can't talk to you anymore."
"Fine. I'm going to eat it anyway."
"Go right ahead. You know what happened in the Bible. Chomp on it, bitch, see where it gets ya!"
"That was a FIG! Not an APPLE you dumb retard!"
The Development of Soap
back when soap
was made from people
we all wondered
what exactly 'clean' was
soap is made by treating
fats with an alkaline solution
to achieve sopanification
some of this may simply be
the lies of propaganda
nothing ever really gets clean
Ramblings of a Half-Hearted Ideologue