Ready for the Asteroid (a poem)

(I wrote this a long time ago.  But, when I see Trump, Cruz, Rubio, Hillary and Bernie spinning their shit, I wish the asteroid would come NOW)

When the horrible day arrives

the clouds will blacken and melt

a searing, tumbling ball of rock

will head our way

We will finally all understand our smallness

I will crawl into my roach skin costume

and hide between the walls

Because roaches, I’m told, will survive

I Like Glue in My Coffee

I like glue in my coffee because I’m a white, gangster, mutherfucking bitch.  Fuck the cream and sugar, I rip tags off mattresses bitches.

When my teacher told me not to eat the glue, I stood up at my desk and said, “I don’t need to eat the glue bitch, I like glue in my coffee mutherfucker.”  She sent me to the office and the principal asked me what my problem was.

I told him, “Fuck you honkey, cracker bitch, you wouldn’t understand what it’s like to be a middle-class white kid trying to make a dollar and pass the third grade.  Shit is real in my neighborhood, the HOA is cracking down on people parking on the streets and making my parents keep the landscaping presentable.  That’s why I like glue in my coffee bitch, because it eases the stress.” 

He told me if I had one more outburst that he was going to expel me.

So I replied, “That’s why I like glue in my coffee mutherfucker, because I want to get expelled, go to an alternative school where I will fit in better nigga’.  I’m tired of all these trick ass ho’s trying to make me do math and read and shit.  That’s why I like glue in my coffee.”

God in Schools (the end is near)

letter-from-godIn traffic today I saw this bumper sticker:

“Dear God, Why do you let bad things happen in schools?” “Dear Son, I’m not allowed in schools.”

I almost crashed into the back of the car when I read this.  This is the kind of unintelligent, undynamic,  and unoriginal thought that has been and continues to ruin this country.

(Yes, I am aware that undynamic is probably not a word, but I like it)

Maybe I’m the idiot here, maybe I’m the dolt, the blockhead, the bonehead, the meathead, the lunk………..well, you get the idea.

I fail to see any logic with that bumper sticker.  I fail to see any logic at all.

I’m guessing that if kids in school prayed more there would be less teachers sending them texts of their cocks, tits and fucking them in detention.  And I mean true “fucking” in the sexual sense, not “fucking” them as in fucking them out of a decent education. Continue reading

A Fear of Public Toilets

“I’ve always thought that the stereotype of the dirty old man is really the creation of a dirty young man who wants the field to himself.” Hugh Downs

When I was a little kid from about the ages of 6-10, my dad used to take me to Tampa Bay Bucs football games.

I loved football and it was great father/son bonding, but this is where my fear of public bathrooms originated.

I will never forget having to pee, I mean I was a little kid and probably pissed quite a bit.  My dad would walk with me into the bathroom and as I walked in the door a giant, aluminum trough was staring back at me.

There were no urinals on the wall with nice privacy dividers.  There was only the enormous trough up against the wall packed with several men standing shoulder to shoulder in various stages of alcoholic inebriation.  Continue reading

Scared

A while ago I was at a hotel in Jacksonville, Fl for my job, a job I fucking hate. I work so I can pay child support in order to do the right thing. I do love my kids, but 60% of my income isn’t quite fair. The circumstances are long, drawn out, complicated and all the shit nobody really wants to hear about.

BALLS

I do wish I could grow bigger balls, big fucking donkey balls and scream “fuck the world, fuck you job, fuck you bosses,” just a guttural fuck off to everyone and everything that pisses me off. Continue reading

tired (a poem)

220px-Street_gutter_in_Old_Town_Stockholmtired of the rhyming bull-shit, flowery, gentle hugs

of today’s poetry

tired of sunshine beams, rainbows with comfortable temps.

i want smelly hooker, dark alley cum-stained fingers

feeling up the innocents, making mouths gape, screaming for help and

thrown into the stank puddles reflecting the gutters of real life.

tired of feel good dreams, idealistic dreams, dreams that only enlighten 1%.

i want the dejected, the forgotten, the pushed aside, the foreheads with spit dripping down into an eye that’s been forced shut for too long.

i want welfare, bad cheese, half smoked cigs, Boones farm cheap-ass wine, i want 40 ounces of beer that smells like homeless ass

that makes the bowels remember who is on the bottom rung.

i want real pain, i want real emotion, i want a real experience from someone on this fucking planet.

tired of all the happy shit,

it’s ok not to smile.

all cats are probably gay

catprancing down the street, with a constant look of “I’m better than you bitch.”                              

laying on the grass in the front yard, deliberately flipping their tails back and forth inviting you to pet their stomach,                                      

then as you oblige, they scratch you like a mad queen who was just told he was “chunky”                           

they flutter past you, deliberately brushing your leg for attention with their tail high in the air exposing their asshole, an asshole that looks like a banana that’s been split in half                   

I’ve yet to see a cat who appeared masculine in any way, nor have I ever heard a cat meow in a deep voice like the Allstate guy                                                                    (I’m fairly certain that All Cats (Domestic) Are Probably Gay)