Poems and Prose
Saturday, April 09, 2011
At the end of the world

at the end of the world
the acme wrecking crew will all be pissed.
pink slipped all
nothing left to destroy
crying to Shivanada
how will i feed my family? Who will pay my cable bill?

its cold now. i cant sleep. no more time left.
my foot hurts and i hope i am good looking in the next incarnation of time-space-simulation.

Second coming of Bob Hope and his High Priestess Lucille Ball. Her gams look great under that robe.

I just know it.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Waiting for Something or Someone





I’m trying to breathe.

Looking for the horizon in my cube.

I am calm, calm I am

I will not eat green eggs and ham

That was St. Patrick’s Day

Now its almost Easter

I wish Christ would hurry up and get resurrected already

I’m like a Brooklyn cabbie waiting in a jam

Churned, agitated, cranky, distracted

Here but not here

Living in anticipation of the next moment

Wasting time like Pamala Vorhees

Time hanging there horrified and horrifing

Gore dripping out from the axe wound in time’s head

Some sort of vendetta against all the time at Crystal Lake

I want to return to the old days when I trusted everything would be OK

Playing happily in the lake

Except I can’t swim

Maybe because I am retarded

Why did my mom think it was a good idea to send me to camp in the first place?

Maybe she was sick and tired

Fed up with me

Why then act so mad and surprised when I drowned?

Blame yourself mom

Stop killing time like its their fault

Stop killing time like its their own fault

Page 1 of 1 pages