Friday, October 3, 2008

What's up Faggits?

So I was cruising the internet in my psych class today and I was all researching “Poetry” on wikipedia. I got fucking offended, can you believe there are assholes out there that can write anything, and I mean anything, and call it a “poem?” So like this right here,

“this,”
that’s a fucking poem man. I could pretty much be jesus fucking Christ at writing poetry for all I know.

Yo
Know?

Like right there. I wrote “You” and I followed it, by typing “know.” Shakespeare man. Oh yeah, I learned about him. He was this fag who wore frilly shirts and like fucked dudes or something. But I guess being gay makes you good with words, so like I sort of respect that. I wish being gay made me good at paying attention to my professor cause then, like I’d do it, so I wouldn’t have to be writing this here.

Any-
Ways

When I was googling poetry (right before I googled “chicks in thongs” though) and I found some stupid religious inspired sex poetry, or Relsextry, a website called it. Now, as an evangelical, this stuff makes me pissed. I only think about God when I’m praying, it’s like a fucking sin to think of him when I’m touching my dick on a chick’s tit. You know? So like I can’t believe people feel the presence of Jesus, when a dicks in a vag, that’s sacrilege and bogus, man. But people do it! And they call it art. Well you know, you put an “F” in front of that word, and we know what that spells. FART. Yeah, so like FART is just a stupid excuse to write dumb stuff. This for instance,

"When you’re on top
I feel like John Winthrop
On his first voyage
Cross the atlantic

Prepping his mates
For a glorious life
After the second
Coming
Of Christ."

Like what the hell man? I got bigger problems in my life to fry (paying for my hockey lessons, being out of coals for grilling, not dropping suishi when I eat it on a fork, just to name a few), you know, but I can’t get this stupid shit out of my head!

"When we’re both naked
I’m comfortable with original sin
I feel like I’d take the blame
For every single snake
Tempting a nude chick
To consume
Forbidden
Fruit"

Like what does that mean?
Seriously!

Poetry is so stupid. I can’t believe this shit gets faggits laid. You know? Oh fuck, my little sister has to use the computer...


God, fucking bitch. She needed to check a news website for some bullshit current event thing in a class. Eneways, where was I? Oh yeah, religion and sex poetry. So stupid man. Makes my dick hard, but not in a gay way, more in like a, "I wanna pound a bitch way." So pissed at this shit...

"Get in line lemon
I got tickets to this ark
Where You and I
Are going
To populate
Nations"

Seriously man. What the shit?

Well I gotta go
Gunna see the rodeo
With my paps

And fucking Shakespeare
man.
I could get used
to this.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Spouts the Privileged American

Tonight
Lords and Lassies
We witness a history
That has, nor ever will
Relive itself with such uncertainty

A dynamo bout
Verse a great white political shark
And a celebrity stricken pair of no-rim glasses
With a mouth that gathers
Up all the crowds

So Ready all the blogs for
An event like this usually
Constitutes the purchasing of a ticket
But not today, my citizen friend, get your
loved ones on speakerphone, a beer and hunker down.

The feature
Presentation
Is about to begin.

Monday, September 29, 2008

all the wrong eggs, all the wrong baskets

shake my hand now
this is the Pittsburg agreement

take down the screens
summer is over

a letter for my leej
A snowshoe

the silver spur
your tongue
in a jar

a hungry drunk's
feast

Friday, September 26, 2008

Skank Sussin'

FREE WILL
DO WHAT YOU FEEL
PAINT THE ICE
FOR THE NEXT BONSPIEL
M.Q. INC.
DONE THE NEW DRUG DEAL
PREGNANCY PINK
ABORTION TEAL
FLENSING A WALRUS
FLEECING A SEAL
DONT ADULTER
SHO' DO STEAL

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Bill Murray?

Got a MinQ coat,
an I got this miniquote
bout a kid who hates his kids
well they haven't even used protection
so they sit in space
they dwell in wombs

and so the revolution says

"Mark the words, of our holy savior
watch the wills of the everday
gospel soldiers."

Like I believe in death
A believer asks

"It's all regional?"

"Yeah,
It is a fact."

Heavy reality
A reporter gathering it all up
A doctor of journalism
Has no borders


The final concrete slab
On a tortured chest
A shelf of destruction
And all the gifts those privates gave
Pulled down.

I'm too young too die for a cause
And you're too free
To be loving me
I don't need one thousand sweet excuses
Confetti - be released

Gilbert Plains is now hiring
A turn-key
My swelling heart
Your dirty hands
Bibles lodged in desert sands

And all the furs
The five dollars
You don't owe to anyone
In some pocket at Salvation army
The mouse is asleep
And sighing in my lap.