Every Sock

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

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I have depression


sex addiction


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


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


every sock you’ve ever cum in

wants to kill you

so you




but then it’s like


your feet,

they’re so cold

so you consider going to the sock store


and even the thought

is just so


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,


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



are just


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fuck your fuckin cummy


leaking runny eggs

under water

on fire



sucking off

George Wendt


fuck it,

the entire cast of Cheers

while your asshole

blossoms outward

oozing juices


and brown

and your dog

laps it all up

while you piss on the floor

and drool down your


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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Not My Presidential Suite

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

– – – – –


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

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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

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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.

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