why do suicidal self
hating medicating rip torns
think they can hog the

poetry? it's mine

anyone who does not
think deeply about the issues
eventually becomes skin

on some nazis lamp
or ends up dying in a
gulag somewhere just

you don't want to think about it

Gluten makes me hard.
I mean down in my undies.
And not the brown crust.

I like gluten free.
You can take out the gluten
and give it to me.

I'm a liberal
only because I don't like
right wing nut tea-bags.

Being single is
to speak one's mind without fear
of being yelled at.

I wish that were true...
Almost -- if not for the kids.
I cannot leave them.

They are not nearly
as evil as I am now,
but there is still time.

If you really think
Politics make you so cool
You are an idiot!

Just found some Haiku
I wrote fifteen years ago
How silly I was!

or how about this one
"how I accidentally joined the
vast right wing conspiracy and

found inner peace"

me thinks pf is
a single man and if he
gets married, what then?

ever get tired
of the liberals who want
gluten free bread for

lunch? but dadaist
plans are a protest against
meaning itself sometimes

oh chuck, let's made some
soap, then express gen x frust.
in a book form then

he was at a thing
watching tractors smash up then
sometimes a good writer

Linking with porn names
from Met-Art.com website
will increase traffic.

How many perverts
does it take to read my book?
We may never know.

I just read Pygmy,
The book by Chuck Palahniuk.
My least fave by him.

Oh just fuck me now!
There are 8 syllables down
in previous post.

The 2nd sentence
has 8 Goddamn syllables.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Rancid swine feces.
Cleaning the stir-fried intestines.
Pinoy relatives.*

*Pinoy = Filippino.
The kitchen smells like a veterinary kennel filled with dogs that have parvo virus diarrhea. Effing pig guts.

ignore van halen
or heed their exhortation
"go ahead and jump..."

I don't want to jump
off a bridge because I want
to cause some closure...

I want to jump off.
A cliff, a building, the world.
Life is now empty.

It's so hot today
I think I'll crawl inside the
refrigerator

a while passes then
the traditional form looks
all the more pleasing

response, stimulus
response, stimulus hmm you
stimulus package

huh huh, he said stimulus...

he said package, heh heh

Lance has ants in his pants
that make him take a chance and prance and dance all the way to France in his underpants. If you by happenstance get a glance it will put you in a trance.

hmm if the nudies
are sleezy then isn't
that lunch naked too?

A burger and fries
at a sleezy nudie bar.
It's my naked lunch.

well what about the black
meat of the aquatic what
is it centipede?

the people puke and
eat and puke again,the whole
bill burroughs tainted

cheese thing, but I mean
what kind of wine goes with that
sort of naked lunch?

Acetylene Flowers
I can no longer live the lies you

Skull-fuck the chicken
Fun the mental cyst has ate her snatch
it's weird good meat, sir. ;-)

well fuck, the christian
fundamentalist has met his match
in weird, good meet sir

"I'm a mog. Part man,
part dog -- I'm my own best friend."
--John Candy as Barf

She was a magnetic pole dancer,
and he was a physicist from Berkeley.
They met at the last legal rooster fight in Oklahoma.
They have 4.3 children thanks to his job at the nuclear reactor research laboratory studying flavor enhancers for Skoal.
One of their children write haiku, but this is not one.

Memorial oookma

Fuck, I hate captchas!
Like Memorial oookma.
oookma's not a word!

in other words the schwartz
was used with great effect
and all quite too often

My Master named me
Darth Figpucker, the Highly
Inappropriate.

Limericks are fun.
Haiku are too short for me.
Too few of them rhyme.

There was a rich old man from nantucket...
He very loudly one day kicked the bucket.
He died screaming in bed
while his pretty young nurse was giving him...
his dinner.
And if you die like that, you're a winner.

improvisation
is the way to get your soul
to hang with your heart

I see the big wave.
All I want to do is ride.
To the stars and back.

It could be a whine
Whether or not I feel fine
Snickers to you Blue

I'll write what I write
if you like it or not, call
it tripe or shit...

it's mine

Pulling diaper tabs
Hoping for the best my love
Mudslide triggers rebirth

in recline with wine
plotting lurid crimes of mind
ineffectual

and then a lame one
standards met without acclaim
a silent triumph

a collective gripe
against hollow, timid tripe
this my site of might

and it is so on
my end of things, summer heat
winter comes, snow

can't win can we oh
canada to new england
too much snow or heat

the humidity
is oozing its way inside
my bedroom window

then again between films
with zombies and villians turned
good, what are the trends?

of course there's those you
call your friends and they just may
be that central weight

gives life that meaning

nothing stays the same
tenuous realities
uncertain futures

how to reconcile
many strive, others revile
i'll just wait awhile

boredom mutilates
alcohol and congealed fats
ruin the remains

fried prawns and foie gras
t. soprano ducked bullets
these took him downtown

I'm sorry, I'm a
thinking walter mathau and
the other guy there

from the very film
or the old man from pawn stars
makes me laugh a bit

those angry young men
become grumpy older men
human erosion

somehow the angry
younger man died in me and
replaced by well, what?