Monday, May 18, 2009

Decent

What does it take to be a decent person?
No, seriously . . . I'm asking
because I haven't met
a single damn
decent person
yet.
And
I've lived
a long, long time.

'Tis of Thee

The Mexican Place

Hey kid
with the big fucking mouth,
and the perpetually sweaty hairline,
why don't you shut the hell up,
so the rest of us can sleep?

And how about the next time your
daddy has you for weekend visitation,
and he takes you to the Mexican place
you supposedly like so much,
how about you not act like a red-faced
little shit and act your age?

Thrice Frice Bice

I have a pile of miniature elbows
in my face,
and when I come to and begin
to relish your presence in my
heart attack,
I will sing a song of "Sick Spence,"
that serial killing singing frog
from three towns over,
over there,
where I see the sky is falling
and the world is falling apart.

Goddamn, I'm sad.

Buffalo Gnats

I've got a bunch of tiny bulldozers
with each of your little buffalo gnat names
on them.