Tag: funny

guilt is a funny thing

 

 

 

it doesn’t matter if you knew better

or if you were doing your best with

the knowledge you had

 

if your own hindsight doesn’t shame you

someone else’s will

 

if it doesn’t, you’re probably not human

 

Bills or Bicycles

A friend said everyone has to grow up.

He said it like a man who had been

molded by someone else’s hammer.

–

It heated me and made me malleable

like burning kittens or drowning puppies.

–

It is hard to grow up, friend.

–

So what

if we die too young.

–

Lets make paper airplanes

with scraps of paper sent

by the bill collectors.

–

Lets ride a bike around the lake

with a little ginger ale in our bellies

and a plumped up grin

to meet the noise of the old people

doing the boring and necessary things

to keep their lines and moles in order

–

Lets walk on the beach and kick the waves.

Lets pick up rocks and suck on them.

Lets climb the mountains and jump off

giggling fear into the abyss

I Promise

I am going to die

and I am not sure when

but while I am here

I am going to fuck

with you whenever we can

.

There are going to be bad days

-absurd happenings and stubbed toes

.

and I’ll accept it

-the universe and my ordinary

place in it

.

as long as you are here

to bring me licorice and root beer

and other dreamy stuff

like titty kisses and big warm hugs

.

and your extraordinary love

How long

It is easy to say it in a poem or in front

of a crowd but when you are alone and you accept

your ignorance or beauty or frailty

–

it is very hard not to  lie.

–

How long can you play dumb or cheat

smart or fake love or pretend poise

staring in the mirror?

–

I suppose, you’re not the only one

to have a wasted an afternoon or more

reflecting what delusion told you to

–

I have too

Here lies the body

Here lies the body of a well-loved

human -under this pile of stones

a power decayed

Even though, in his generation

his people loved and praised him

now he is a sonnet; a sealed container of dust

We stand, his future, new generations

sprouted from the past and remember his

name and the territory of  his revolution

but none of us can smell his morning breath

or feel the warmth of his penis in their mouth

Some advice

Here is some advice.

Finger what you love

This day is all you have

Lose for it.

Waste your life for it.

This is bad advice. Don’t follow it.

It will get you into heaps of shit.

It will make your heart fall out.

You’ll lose any respect

you’ve gained.

 

 

It is easy for me to drop this

on your doorstep and light it

on fire  -I’ve never gained respect

and my heart, long ago dried out

Jerky?

Henry and I are going to die

we are not going to be making

you dinner forever

we won’t be pouring your wine

for eternity

so now, while we are here

please share your cigars

and play that song

-the one that makes Henry

cry and me horny

(he is easier to seduce after a good weepin’ and smoke)

Huh- What Are You Sayin’?

I don’t want to alarm you but

I can only hear potato chips

crunching.   May have two

dollars and nine cents?

Please?

I’m losing my ability to focus

just listening to you eat

Number Two

Dear husband

Two nights ago we made

love.

In two months we will

be married for three years

And for the first time

we have made love

like they tell it in the stories

We made the kind of sex

that heal wounds or end battles

And I did not realize that we had not before

until two nights ago, when we did.

Do you want to do it again?

A Cowgirl

Anyone with high intelligence

would have stopped in her

pony tracks and tried to go back

and cover them up and pretend

the journey never began

She is the classic dumb drum

who laughs at everyday

sadness and confusion

because

her ass hurts

and it grinds her

to be overly

sardonic

Follow the blood to her heart

It Is Difficult

It is difficult.

I had so much invested

in you being the one

who messaged my

gray temples because

when you hug me

and don’t call me

stupid I feel safe

I never felt that with anyone else

even sitting by myself

I don’t feel so safe

so that’s the problem, Henry

I don’t know where you are

Missing A Few Hours

I want sex.  That is what

I’m writing this poem for

 I hope to convince you

that having sex with me

is a good idea and that you

shouldn’t delay. Or else

you’ll miss your chance

 

A chance that could change your life

forever or entertain you for a few hours  

I Use Poems

I use poems the size of war.

I write them in the morning

after the pretty city motions work.

When other citizens shop

for beans or rake progress

I arrange sounds that fuck people.

 

So high they get, after my oos and aahs

they promise not to kill again