Every Sock

– – – – –

Today’s selections were featured in “The Weekly Cossacks”, as well as “Gutter Burger Magazine” and “The Washington Post”.

– – – – –

Diagnosis

I have depression

anxiety

sex addiction

trichotillomania

skin picking disorder

unwanted thoughts syndrome

delusions of grandeur

suicidal tendencies

an empty bank account

a bow-legged stance

hips that don’t quit

Rumours on vinyl

a closet full of child mannequins

Ikea furnishings

an endless supply of boogers and cum

candy

two lamps that work

one lamp that doesn’t

two clocks that work

one clock that doesn’t

a repulsion towards lists

wine I left in my friend’s fucking car

two ex-boyfriends

a thousand ex-flings

the velvet rage

a regal gift card

fun socks

house socks

reg socks

immaculate feet

a 2004 Toyota Highlander

some ratty wigs

a combative relationship with AT&T

four bags of german gummies

a quarry of regret

a canyon of self-doubt

a trench of straight-up feelings

iridescent white boy eyes

no prospects

no hope

no love

no god

no thyroid……

………………….

I’ll have the filet o fish, please.

– – – – –

Every Sock

Imagine

every sock you’ve ever cum in

wants to kill you

so you

stop

buying

socks

but then it’s like

fuck,

your feet,

they’re so cold

so you consider going to the sock store

AGAIN

and even the thought

is just so

DAUNTING

but what are you supposed to do?

Not wear socks?

Ever again?

It’s so fucking cold

and you need something

to cum in.

So you buy new socks

but this time

you ask,

“Hey

what if

later on

I decide

that I wanna throw you away

and you decide

that you wanna kill me?

What IF, ya know?

Do you think that could happen?

Do you think

you’d ever

wanna kill me?”

but then you must remember

it doesn’t matter

what the socks say back

because

they

are just

socks.

– – – – –

Cheers

fuck your fuckin cummy

tits

leaking runny eggs

under water

on fire

naked

sobbing

sucking off

George Wendt

and

fuck it,

the entire cast of Cheers

while your asshole

blossoms outward

oozing juices

red

and brown

and your dog

laps it all up

while you piss on the floor

and drool down your

neck

you jizz-stained dilettante

mephitic bundle of rape

busted barnyard bitch

sweaty slab of excrement

shard of stunted puss meat

you lava lamp cunt

jk lol u up?

– – – – –

Norm


Butt Stuff

Today’s selections were featured in “Breath: An Air-Based Lit Mag” as well as “Fucktown Monthly” and “Vogue”.

– – – – –

Peek-a-boo

Goo

goo

gah

gah.

Welcome

to

the

Baby Spa.

The staff is comprised of

babies.

The clientele are all

Japanese businessmen.

We’ve got

manners.

We’ve got

nanners.

– – – – –

A Goose Rhyme

The poor little goosling

feathered and loud

ran beak first at life

full speed and proud.

He fell forward hard

and cracked his young beak

The surgery will cost

a thousand a week.

And until he can pay

his bills to the doc

it’s bureaucratic hell

and sucking rich cock.

Now he dies with each step

to his benefactor’s castle

to beg for a job

as a butler or vassal.

But the story ends nicely

for our little goose friend

cuz he hitchhiked to Canada

where there’s universal healthcare you god damned fucking morons.

– – – – –

Butt Stuff

Touch

my

butt

and/or

bust.

– – – – –

C9708


Marsha Marsha Marsha

These selections were featured in “The Contemplative Carrot Quarterly” as well as “Pizza Bagel Magazine” and “GQ”.

– – – – –

Date Thoughts

I’ll have the branzino (I hope she likes fish)

and your finest bottle of pinot (I hope she likes wine)

What are your specials? (I hope she’s special)

Sounds good but I’ll stick with the branzino (but not like retarded special)

and some more bread, please (Do I smell? Can she smell me?)

So what do you do for fun? (I really should have showered before this)

Ah, and do you make the candles yourself or just sell them? (just didn’t have time)

Well I would buy your candles for sure (can’t tell her about my hobbies, gotta lie)

I fuck raccoon snouts I was just doing it earlier I forgot to shower which is why I smell I do it all the time and yes they’re living coons I don’t fuck dead snouts that’s unsanitary I’m aware of the health hazards but it makes me happy and my friends tell me I gotta let loose so I’m trying to do that I’d love to make you watch sometime but I could only get hard if it was against your will so I hope you’re cool with that we could do it tonight after dinner I know a good dumpster where the coons hang and we could see if I could wrangle one I’ll hold you by the hair while I hump it’s stupid snot tunnel and shoot my viscous load down it’s rodent sinuses and gunk it up hey why don’t we just skip the dinner and go do this right now I’m all excited I can’t wait for you to meet my roommates (oh darn, the truth slipped out)

– – – – –

I Am A Toilet And This Is My Song

I am a toilet and I like my hot treats

Burble every morning while he sits on my seat

When my boy drops his stuff, man, it just can’t be beat

I wonder what he ate, it’s probably meat

Whatever, could be cheddar, as long as it’s sweet

On a Mexican night, I know he’s bringing the heat

I love to be a toilet, man, it’s so dang neat

– – – – –

An Actress, A Prison

My conjugal visit with Marsha didn’t go as planned

She stared at me blankly

I could sense her seething

We only had a half hour

so I started to take my pants off

She shut her eyes in disdain

I pleaded

she was silent

“Marsha Marsha Marsha!”

That used to cheer her up

Like I was Jan Brady

but she didn’t blink this time

She slid me a letter

it read, “I’m not Marsha”

I looked up and asked, “Judy?”

She slid me another letter

it read, “Nope, not Judy either.”

I scratched my head and then it came to me

“You’re Anne Heche.”

She slid me a final letter

“Bingo.”

“Where’s Marsha?”

“I’m playing Marsha.”

So that’s where she’s been.

“Wanna fuck?” I asked.

We fucked

The whole time she kept repeating,

“It’s all for research, it’s all for research”

She let me cum in her

The baby’s due in April

she’s naming it “Research”

– – – – –

Anne Heche


The Burn

Today’s selections were featured in “Farm Sauce: an anthology”, “The Glib Warlock Monthly”, and “Home and Garden”.

– – – – –

Rinse Cycle, 2015

Artists filter

bad experiences

through their creative lens

to make life more bearable

which is why

I put your cat in the washing machine

because that cat

was a bad experience for me

and the washing machine,

ahem,

was my canvas,

which killed

your fucking shit-town of a carpet beast

and made you cry

and so

life, more bearable.

– – – – –

Please

DON’T

come

to

my

one man show.

The

lead

dropped

out.

– – – – –

The Burn

“My cunt is on fire”

She read to the class from her diary

“OUCH HOSE ME DOWN”

A woman alone

hungrily clawing to be saved

screeching her personal laundry out at her students

How does one get to this point?

How does a person reach such inner hell

and frigid loneliness

to literally cry out for help

in the form of a fireman dousing her vagina in hose-water story?

but a better question would be,

why don’t they screen for origami teachers better?

– – – – –

painting-cat


Not My Presidential Suite

These next poems (poems) were featured in “The Chartreuse Aunt” as well as “Crease Magazine” and “The Washington Post”.

– – – – –

Easy

If you buy me a drink

I’ll fuck you

If you say ‘hello’

I’ll fuck you

If you glance in my direction

I’ll fuck you

If you tell me you love me

I lost my phone

– – – – –

Not My Presidential Suite

I wanted the honeymoon suite

Yes, just for me

I like having a lot of space

for my birds

and my potato sculptures.

Yes, I travel with them

they are my light and joy.

I didn’t ask for this.

Not what I wanted.

Also Bush did 9/11

– – – – –

ESL

Repeat after me, class,

My horse-dad came on my baguette.

These clams have married my niece.

Leonard exploded and now I have all this cream.

I’ve lost all my pasta to Michelle and her grandma-husband, Phillip.

Please remove your pelican blog from my gong bath.

Steal nine grapes!

The mustard prince shares a Volvo.

Tell Brian to force lemons on the injured large boy.

– – – – –

presidential-suite1


I Poemed

These tiny word turdlets AKA “poems” were featured in “The Brownstone Bustier Quarterly” as well as “Old Wooden Spoon Monthly” and “Cat Fancy”.

– – – – –

Deep Down

If someone hurts you

makes you feel wrong

makes you feel alien

if they bully you

call you names

make you feel small

just remember

always remember

that deep down inside

of the farthest left cabinet in my bedroom

is where I keep the crossbow.

– – – – –

Every Life is a Miracle

I found a baby

Does anyone want it?

Yeah me neither

– – – – –

Steven’s Pissed About It

Claude is the name of a Frenchman or a hermit crab

that’s it.

There are no other kinds of Claudes.

There are tons of Stevens

but only two Claudes

and that’s why we gave Claude the prize for best name, Steven.

He’s suffered enough.

It doesn’t matter if “Steven” is objectively better as a name.

Claude doesn’t have anything

can’t you let him have this?

Christ, it’s a “Best Name Contest”

This doesn’t even matter.

Fine

go berate the judges, Steven

I’m sure that’ll help your case

I mean honestly it’s all political

If I had my druthers

I agree

Steven is a better name.

Sorry dude

Claude’s just a cooler guy

and yeah

I know

it’s not a “Cool Guy Contest”

it’s a “Best Name Contest”

but dude

– – – – –

pie on a windowsill


These Poems Are All About Cheryl

This next series was featured in “The Beans Are For The People” online column as well as the new literary publication, “Sharon Gless is Anyone’s Guess!” Also featured in “The Penny Saver”.

Cheryl

Um,

Cheryl?

There’s cum on your knees.

No really.

You’ve got cum knees, Cheryl.

Why would I lie to you?

Fine.

Do what you want.

You’ve got the cum knees regardless.

I’m getting you a towel.

Two towels.

One for each knee.

– – – – –

All This Will Be Yours Someday, Princess Lulu

She makes candles

and jewelry

and sometimes soap.

Visit her website

they are very expensive

and when she dies

her pomeranian will inherit everything.

Lucky bitch.

– – – – –

I Found Them, They’re Mine Now

I have several of your donuts

and I will not be sharing

because I deserve these

for existing all these years

without physically harming you.

And you,

you deserve to watch me.

Watch me eat all of your donuts.

and cry.

We’ll both cry

because we’ve both been wronged somehow.

But my tears will be tempered

with the glaze of your donuts.

Fuck you, Cheryl.

Wipe off your god damned cum knees.

– – – – –

sometimes soap