You gotta worry about a civilization that lets it’s creator die alone and broke in a seedy hotel. It’s just not right.

Edison, now there was a fuck who needed a punch in the nose.

TV said that was an obsessive scribbling from Nikola Tesla.

SATOR
AREPO
TENET
OPERA
ROTAS

That sooo puts an end to my crush. Done. Over. Bang! Eet ees no more.

Poetry Nook translation:

Alas!  My love no more
Shivers off into oblivion
like the sunset
on the hang’d man’s last night.
Slain!  I am slain!
With the cruel’st fates
That doth endeth my love.

Smack! Say it in verse
Like the rest of us do
Or you’ll suffer the wrath
of the Angry Haiku.

Sparkling finds lungfish
How shall we say this? Maybe
A little sexy.

That sooo puts an end to my crush. Done. Over. Bang! Eet ees no more.

one fish
two fish
lung fish
screw fish

Sparkling finds lungfish
How shall we say this? Maybe
A little sexy.

Let’s start a joint:

Ode to Cassiopeia

What slithr’d to my hammock
I saw
nightly
by the moonlight o’er the Aegean broth
‘twas
built slightly
the sex hairless,
Hermaphroditus languid and pale
Carrying a basket of lungfish
O!  they slithr-d slathr’d
With creamy fury
“Dear Sir,” my visitor
Languid and pale
Issued forth from ghostly lips
“Your assistance I doth require
and kindly might I enquire
Do not let me languish in this quagmire!”

Old lady farted
in church, recalled younger days
Smiled, let one more

Pete the Prowler

Meet the prowler
Pete the Prowler!
He’s here in your home
at this unGodly hour
Behind the curtain
that hides your shower
Under the sheets you hide and cower
But in your colon a dump doth flower
You run to the loo to release it’s power
And just as you finish your late-night growler
You’ll feel the cold, steely hand
of Pete the Prowler

Let’s start a joint:

What slithr’d to my hammock
I saw
nightly
by the moonlight o’er the Aegean broth
‘twas
built slightly
the sex hairless,
Hermaphroditus languid and pale
[NEXT!]

i hate my cat
he is fat
and he runs crazy like that
bat-shit crazy bat
in the middle of the night, drat!
he gets into a spat
with the other cat
makes so much noise, “What’s THAT???”
the fucker wakes me up, stat,
at an ungodly hour at that
so that I call him fat
even though for a cat
he’s not larger than a hat.

There was a young man from nelephant…

eh, I’m no good at limericks.

Let’s start a joint:

Ode to Cassiopeia

What slithr’d to my hammock
I saw
nightly
by the moonlight o’er the Aegean broth
‘twas ...

[NEXT!]

sleeping gypsy takes
six persimmons on
mythical ships in soft focus

nuns with guns
tell a clever joke
then an unclever joke

Greetings from Scotland!
says the bedoiun
as he crosses the desert
on camel back
in tartan rags.

Youth beckons to two cats
and two evil little girls
but they fall in the creases
and are never seen again.

On a bucolic Japanese night
in the 17th century
Webster suddenly realized
You can only see as far as you think.

the cat curls her paw
shows her jaundiced porcelain wares
like a whore
shaped like a cat
and made of porcelain.

ps—and jaundiced.

I would
put it
where it
belongs but
it is full
which it is it?

You know
where to put that.

Always
with the cooze.

APROPOS OF NOTHING
Some poets write sestinas,
Some poets write haikus.
Here’s a little epigram
To shove up your dirty cooze.

I could think of nothing else that rhymed.

A haiku has five
Syllables, seven then five.
Nook needed one more.

It’s a nook
Not a corner.
Silly.

I added a cat
To the poetry corner.
Can’t have enough cats!

The female body
Adam and Eve
Kill ‘em, crush ‘em, eat ‘em raw!
Rape and the modern sex war:
The good guys
The androgynous man
Looking at women
Marked women
Say yes, Jarhead
The obligation to endure
Asking how much is enough
Am I blue?

-----china doll-----
perceived perfection
flawlessness marred
lip of dreams
oozing and raw
pulsating, pulsating!
impolite stare
weeping in sympathy
just like her sore

I’ve heard that many artists would deliberately include one small flaw in their work, either as a sign of humility, or as to not anger the gods with perfection from a mere mortal.
But this is too much.
My world is a little bit darker today.

areyousparkling
work, not play
you need to get away from the office

Oh! Bukowski!

Why I love you I do not know
You are not that clever
and you don’t “do show”;
You talk with your fists
Type with your feet
Everything you’ve ever wrote
I think is sweet.

But I think I love you
most of all
as Sparkling can’t stand you
and there should be a rhyme here
really.
Shouldn’t there?

correction tape dispenser
blue-snouted
like an aardvark
nestled in a bed of rubber bands.

oh supply closet
your goods so sleek, modular and new
I totally don’t mind
the 10 minute trek
through mazes of hallways
--watch the cubicle rats scurry--
to reach you, my Cordoba, lejana y sola
Out of the closet,
You pilot pens and generic stickie notes
stickie like spurt
generic spurt

shed your raiments
of cardboard and cellophane
and try not to think
of how it all ends

you, naked on my bedroom floor
like so many before you
bled out
a gaping max swoops down from the heavens
you close your eyes,
my beautiful solar-powered calculator
Like a Russian hooker
under a fat man with eczema

I’m sorry it had to end this way
but I don’t have any Ritalin left
And you bore me
And my cat likes to chew things.

so sorry.
(

There was a young lady named Bright
Whose speed was much faster than light;
She went out one day,
In a relative way,
And returned the previous night.

To her friends said the Bright one in chatter,
I have learned something new about matter:
My speed was so great,
Much increased was my weight,
Yet I failed to become any fatter.

There once was a man named Merkin
who was always jerkin’ his gherkin.
His wife said, “Merkin,
Stop jerkin’ your gherkin.
Your gherkin’s for ferkin’, not jerkin’."

Then one from out of New York City
Was a gal who thought herself pretty
But it was not to be
she smelt much of pee
But she claimed “Twasn’t me, was my kitty!”

Fuck thou and fuck thou and fuck youeth
Thou thinkest thou funny but thou bleweth
I smell like posies
Shoved up thy noseys
The day thou doth mock me, thou rue-eth

*Vase threweth*

"nymphomaniacal jill
tried a dynamite stick for a thrill
they found her vagina
in north carolina
and bits of her tits in brazil."

Then one from out of New York City
Was a gal who thought herself pretty
But it was not to be
she smelt much of pee
But she claimed “Twasn’t me, was my kitty!”

There was a young man from Ayr
Who thought he looked pretty fair
Because he went to the stable
And the first woman able
Saddled what she thought was a mare.

There was a young lady from Rhyll
Who thought she might go on the pill
But she was quite forgetful
Ended up with a gutfull
And it had to be worked out with a drill.