Space Age Bodhisattva
i once read
that if you cut
a ping pong ball in half
tape the halves
over your eyes
and look into light
you'll achieve instant
meditation
so i did that
for a year
24/7
achieving bliss
some bruises
a concussion
a reputation for being
detached
and
when i finally removed them
an appreciation
of the perfectly imperfect
lost and beautiful world
of everyday life
Mortadella Bella
"This is my art," the little boy said to his mother, as she stood in his bedroom doorway. In one hand she held a ragged piece of paper, with the other she wiped the tears from her eyes.
"What do you mean, your art?" his mother said. "All these bad things, about me, that you want to do to me! Is this how you feel? To... to use a machete?"
"It's a poem, Mom." said the little boy.
His mother raised the paper to her eyes, and with shaking hands read one of the stanzas aloud.
i'll turn her intestines to homemade spaghetti
while boiling a pot of her spleen and her belly
then using the blade of my favorite machete
i'll slice her brain thin like some meat at a deli
She dropped her hands and looked at the little boy.
"Pretty cool, huh?" he said.
"Cool?! What... EVIL has gotten into you? To write this? Art? ART?! For WHOM is this ART?!" she cried.
"I have a patron, Mom," said the little boy.
"A patron? Someone pays you to write this shIIIT? Who is this PATRON?" the little boy's mother said.
"I'm sworn to secrecy," said the little boy. "But I will say, his appetite for my poems is insatiable. He asks for a new one every day."
With that, the little boy's mother said, "Stay in your room until your father comes to see you!"
Then she turned around and slammed the bedroom door behind her.
She found her husband, as usual, slouching over the kitchen table.
Holding the paper to his face, she screamed, "Look what your son has written!"
Her husband took another bite of his Milano salami sandwich before setting it down on his plate, between the Castelvetrano olives and cannoli.
Then, licking his fingers, he read his son's poem, Mortadella Bella, with consummate delectation.
Possible Side Effects Include Stroke
i think i need jardiance
or skyrizi
i can't get the fuckin jingles
out of my head
i wake up singing
i take once-daily jariance
at each day's start
and i like it
i fucking like it
they say he'll topple democracy
unless a porn star topples him
he's gonna free all those bad guys
if he's president
he says they're hostages
the other guy's just gonna die
and then she'll be president
and no one likes her
she does laugh too much
nothing is everything
it might make me commit suicide
or give me suicidal ideation
someone else could kill me too
like a well regulated militia
who hasn't had any pussy
and std's are rampant too
that's my real plan
or someone'll carjack me
and i'll try to fight back
the migrants are gonna
take my job anyway
or maybe i'll get laid off
due to ageism
and then i'll join a class action lawsuit
for nothing
or ai might make me obsolete
i'd like to kill an ai
i hope i don't get dupuytren's contracture
noninvasive treatment but still
does it matter any more
if i live in a flood plain
if a year's worth of rain
falls in a day?
fuck
i think my testicles are shrinking
Dis-ease
the moon is full tonight
darling
like it was the first time you
caught my attention
you really did
your big bouncy
ponytail
do you like when i
nibble on your ears like this?
you taste so fine
i could just
lick you all over
i really could
and you look good in
tape
silver really brings out your
panache
if i may
how does all this make you
feel?
i know
there's a lot of getting
used to me
you'll need to do
darling
but i know you'll do
fine
tonight though
let's just have a little
fun
okay?
now
be still
don't scream
ooh
OOOOH!!!