Random Poems 07-08-09?

Fed up (&down)

I watch my friend all wrapped in baby twine, spoon-feed his lover.
Goo-goo-ga-ga.
Smash the cartilage with a bright blue-rattle.
Crawl, crawl, crawl on all
4’s.

Holy (I want to staple your mouth shut!) Fuck!
Why do I put up with half-drunk nights anymore?
Drink a few, burn a few, smell like a beach fire, sit up and stomach false promises from girls with computer screen faces.
Keyboards for teeth.
Telephone wire ponytails.
Text message a gawking crow.
Tired, Tired eyes.

www.




The Arrogant Plumber

People are too dumb,
To fix things themselves.

And WHOM do they call?
The Restroom Respirator,
The Oracle of the Pipes,
The Sink Surgeon,
The Porcelain Playboy…

CAN IT!
YOU WHIMPERING PUPPIES!
I CAN CALM YOUR MESSY TOILET TANTRUMS!

Without me,
you’d all be shitting the bed.




RUN TOGETHER

HELLO, I am a drunken-high clustered swollen
INNER MONOLOUGE, pushing at the shell of a brain.
LET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!
The subconscious spits angrily from the depths of my black hole feelings chamber.

My insides are soaked in beer-
The best way to shed my tears for the new year.
EACH BOTTLE- beat to shit.

Head spinnin’ spinnin’ spinnin’
I don’t care about the height, weight, or angle-
Just sit and run together with the color,
My dreams,
My health,
My sex drive,
My allergies.




Being Loud At Night

I have the right-
To be loud at night.

I can sing like song birds sing
Or
Cry like house dogs bark




Hunchback Bushes

Bushes being strangled, Neatly-
In a row, By the ZOMBIES of falls,
DEAD YELLOW LEAVES.
…And trees danced with the wicked-
bending over the walkway like the hunchbacks of fairy tales would be…
When I observed the pine it was not shagged with ice but-
Raped by wet, cold rain,
Making it looked surprised and SAD.

The air made me feel tired-
As if the fog was going to stay a long while.






APPLE BLOSSOM HANDS

GODDAMN THESE APPLE BLOSSOM HANDS!
So clean, they don’t smell like burrito.
They are the same hands that when attached to yours,
Appear so perfect-
Theu make V shaped flocks of migrating birds look,
Sloppy.

I like your blueberry muffin hands A LOT.
I remember them touching my entire body.




THANKSGIVING

I am sitting on my soft bed.
It is the definition of comfort.
My open window spits swirling jazz horns into my room.
Family is downstairs:
My mother rushing around,
Marty watching a football game, in the living room, next to the fireplace,
And 2 of my grandmothers, talking about how students get abducted in other countries.

I smell turkey and burnt wood.
I am upstairs, taking rezzon hits out of my bowl, with a BBQ lighter.
Pete left a beer in my car last night, and I am drinking that as well.
It is a Budweiser.
The window reveals a foggy backyard.

I close the window, chew some gum, and go downstairs.




BELCH

A sonic wave of gas moves me into a Belch.
Mrs. Shotglass Beerbottle Headache taps me on the shoulder:

“I’ll see you in the morning” She says.
I brush her hand off.
Caught in a spiral
of ex-lovers eyes
making their discreet
glances at my costume.
I can taste the unspoken thirst.

Truth is no one speaks anymore.
Unless a secret leaks, your “Friends”
Are either a faint stare or a quick smile.

Truth is all you both want to see is each others clothing balled up on the floor.








In a world assorted human beings, I am a Hungry, Sluggish, Pervert

I can hear the girl that sits across the room,
Munching on assorted nuts.
A big CRUNCH fills the room every 25 seconds when she bites down on the next handful.
It does NOT put me in the mood for assorted nuts.
But
Her haircut, nosering, Orange button down cardigan and converse sneakers
Put me in the mood for something else.

The chick next to me in Ocean class,
Is writing down a list of assorted things.
Chores, Homework, Job, Friends, Blah.
I don’t think about the things I have to get done when I read her list.
But
Her white framed glasses, Black pulled back ponytail, and ripped jeans
Make me think of something else.














Long Live Lassitude

Love spending my heyday, with my legs stretched long under the covers,
Thinking.
Tossing boredom at the walls and watching it bounce, out loud.
My throat feels burnt in the oven.
I’ve had a couple of late nights in a row this week.
Buildings make the late nights a dark closet.
The black smoke and concrete giants block,
the moons rays.
Beds are, so soft they bleed energy from life.
Bits of shuteye follow me.
Hoping my dreams will lead long lives,
I welcome boredom.