i will try to write 100 poems in 100 days. even if they're all chamber potty. then i'll write one when i feel like it.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

bosses dribble when workers

quibble and call
each other names
before a union e
lection proving a u
nion is just like an o
nion that can be pee
led and ea
ten only to be
come
shit

Monday, June 7, 2010

when he brought me out the meat that

i began to eat and
he knew i was a
vege
tari
an we
ll i chewed and
i wondered what it could
be when sudden
ly he
appro
ached and an
noun
ced i'm sorr
y but it's a mis
take he grab
bed the plate we
ll i wanted to grab
his balls and
serve him carn
iver
ous tes
ticu
lar bbq i
felt like
i was in chi
na not chi
cago i sip
ped some fan
cy ex
pensive teq
uila hoping the alco
hol the cacti pri
cks would bre
ak down whate
ver body par
ts i just
swallowed

Sunday, June 6, 2010

i entered di's den won

drin if every
one'd be star
in i exi
ted a stum
blin with a
smile and new
friends

Saturday, June 5, 2010

getting a letter from the

cancer center with
your name on it that
says your pmg is
stable with
no new enhancement is like
getting a report card with
straight ds: no
matter how smart u is
ein
stein u
bear
ly passed dees
clas
sis

Friday, June 4, 2010

karla sees a moose and a

black bear and a
caribou while
i give
multiple
guess tests to
teenagers: just a
nother fri
day in
21 c. north a
merica

Thursday, June 3, 2010

i'm writing this in

a quiet house as
she flies over
halifax.  nova
scotia i think.  then
newfoundland. 'tis all
great white north to
me.  and
greater with she.
take off.

4 haikus for the 4 days i missed while in austin, tx (+ 1)

sat 5.29
more gutter balls than
strikes more splits than spares is bowl
ing life's metaphor


sun 5.30
scotch from the bottle
passed in a circle midnight
austin mitch forty


mon 5.31
uncoordinat
ed is my ass stuck
                                bum
                                        ping
down a water slide


tue 6.1
we woke packed flew blue
line bus washed clothes made dinner
tomorrow's joe fucked


wed 6.2
'tis teachers' fault some
sayeth mothers of their fail
ures our wh?e hold back

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