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.

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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?

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Norm

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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