Wednesday, April 06, 2005
top 5 & poems
sorry this took so long, but peeple have been all messing up the order by annoying me. plus i've been poeting. ( www.shaferhall.blogspot.com )
top 5 people i know:
5. lou the landlord.
4. monique (awesome lap)
3. b2. i know she wuz back in the bottom 5, but she's improved due to the mini beef taco
2. adrianna. she only owns my girlfriend for crying out loud.
1. b1. HELLO?!?! was there even a question about that?
top 5 people i know:
5. lou the landlord.
4. monique (awesome lap)
3. b2. i know she wuz back in the bottom 5, but she's improved due to the mini beef taco
2. adrianna. she only owns my girlfriend for crying out loud.
1. b1. HELLO?!?! was there even a question about that?
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A poem, dedicated to you, sweet dog, by an anonymous lover
Oh sweet lord of monkey dog gods
love in my mouth forever
tongues like pink angels of sweet mercy death
dear dog, dear canine, dear love of loves
the monkey and the dog eat rice in vietnam
while the strong white man feels on ocean of angry love
rolling like new cigarettes
under the friendly gaze of bushy-eyebrowed death
what is this new dog rat thing?
the male siamese cat charges—mad rush for escape
the siamese grasps the chihuahua by the rear
MAD SCREAMS
thrusting again and again
“that’s the way the cookie crumbles” the soldier
thinks, “for all of us”
he watches them
going at it
on the beach
little dog, naked, breathless, ravished
little land of napalm mad sweet violent love naked, breathless, ravished
“this little dog … shit man, I know what he’s going through”
all dog love in the dog days comes
crashing down like exploding mirrors from hell
shards of piss and shit and dog poop flying like flies all around
as thick as a brown, stinky-sweet fog
buzzing the mad buzz of summer love, summer nights
“what’s that smell?” the soldier thinks, while taking a puff
from his cigarette
having just scratched his ass.
this poem is dedicated to you, dawg.
word to your mother.
Oh sweet lord of monkey dog gods
love in my mouth forever
tongues like pink angels of sweet mercy death
dear dog, dear canine, dear love of loves
the monkey and the dog eat rice in vietnam
while the strong white man feels on ocean of angry love
rolling like new cigarettes
under the friendly gaze of bushy-eyebrowed death
what is this new dog rat thing?
the male siamese cat charges—mad rush for escape
the siamese grasps the chihuahua by the rear
MAD SCREAMS
thrusting again and again
“that’s the way the cookie crumbles” the soldier
thinks, “for all of us”
he watches them
going at it
on the beach
little dog, naked, breathless, ravished
little land of napalm mad sweet violent love naked, breathless, ravished
“this little dog … shit man, I know what he’s going through”
all dog love in the dog days comes
crashing down like exploding mirrors from hell
shards of piss and shit and dog poop flying like flies all around
as thick as a brown, stinky-sweet fog
buzzing the mad buzz of summer love, summer nights
“what’s that smell?” the soldier thinks, while taking a puff
from his cigarette
having just scratched his ass.
this poem is dedicated to you, dawg.
word to your mother.
The Too-Hot Falafel; or, Ode on a Grecian Burn
Stepping into the late-night haze outside Niko’s, I bite
into my falafel and burn my mouth.
“Oh shit,” I say.
paper bag and gyro mess on concrete
stink of onions
girlfriend laughing, maliciously
I have seen the objects of all philosophical inquiry dissolve in a moment of sudden pain, and in the long dull misery of old cancers all man need know is that truth is a blister. Truth a barrier of puss.
I explain this to my girlfriend, blister-mouthed.
She laughs.
Cooling now, I toss the falafel out past the curb and into the street, thinking the dogs will get to it or the raccoons or the Harvard Street alley cats. Let them fight it out, I say to myself. I bend down to pick up my bag of gyros in all philosophical dignity.
Oh, sweet falafelly goodness, why burn the mouth that bites thee? Why punish me for loving thee with eagerness?
These and other philosophies are running through my mind, clearer now, and I feel my tongue stroking the blister as it does other things, and I can’t help thinking that, if someone was watching me from behind, her legs must look like weird and wiggly antlers sticking out of my head.
...for you, love.
Stepping into the late-night haze outside Niko’s, I bite
into my falafel and burn my mouth.
“Oh shit,” I say.
paper bag and gyro mess on concrete
stink of onions
girlfriend laughing, maliciously
I have seen the objects of all philosophical inquiry dissolve in a moment of sudden pain, and in the long dull misery of old cancers all man need know is that truth is a blister. Truth a barrier of puss.
I explain this to my girlfriend, blister-mouthed.
She laughs.
Cooling now, I toss the falafel out past the curb and into the street, thinking the dogs will get to it or the raccoons or the Harvard Street alley cats. Let them fight it out, I say to myself. I bend down to pick up my bag of gyros in all philosophical dignity.
Oh, sweet falafelly goodness, why burn the mouth that bites thee? Why punish me for loving thee with eagerness?
These and other philosophies are running through my mind, clearer now, and I feel my tongue stroking the blister as it does other things, and I can’t help thinking that, if someone was watching me from behind, her legs must look like weird and wiggly antlers sticking out of my head.
...for you, love.
LOVELY
ah, my golden lovely lost youth, drink to me,
tonight, with your eyes
and your smiling long legs
(I am now imagining that I’ve bought you a T-shirt one size too small that says LOVELY across your boobs and we’re talking together while you smoke a cigarette and we’re laughing and not taking ourselves too seriously.)
drink together these nights, let’s recline in hazy-lovely memories, for we are both doomed apart together to suffer the same ecstatic tragedy of cool.
the denouement is stale and very long.
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ah, my golden lovely lost youth, drink to me,
tonight, with your eyes
and your smiling long legs
(I am now imagining that I’ve bought you a T-shirt one size too small that says LOVELY across your boobs and we’re talking together while you smoke a cigarette and we’re laughing and not taking ourselves too seriously.)
drink together these nights, let’s recline in hazy-lovely memories, for we are both doomed apart together to suffer the same ecstatic tragedy of cool.
the denouement is stale and very long.
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