*****! *****! I **** *****!
***** get ****** when I **** *****!
No ifs, ands, and/or buts!
I **** *****! I **** *****!

Nice girls are nice, but no good for nut-*******.
They'll need a serene night to green-light a ****-*******,
but that'll be easy with ****** ol' ****-*******!
Boo to the nice girls! Praise be to ****-*******!

I have a list. A list? Yes, a list of all the ***** I've missed.
I've never ****** or ****** these ***** and thus my nuts are ******* ******.
So when I **** the lucky ****, my nut removes her from the list---
another dumb cumbucket struck from my nut-*******,
"**** it, ****!" ****-******* bucket list.

***** can be white, brown, pink, or almond.
They can be skinny with ******* or skinny with small ones.
***** can be perky, preppy, or posh,
with their brains and their clothes all shrunk from the wash.

But other ***** are pretty and funny and smart.
They can lift your thoughts from your **** to your heart.
They can talk about science, music, or art.
They can put you together or pull you apart.

But don't trust these *****! Don't! Don't you dare!
They'll force you to trust them and love them and care.
And then they'll be gone and then you'll be aware
of that hole in your heart that that dumb **** left there.

On the third of June, at a minute past two,
where once was a person, a flower now grew.

Five daisies arranged on a large outdoor stage
in front of a ten-acre pasture of sage.

In a changing room, a lily poses.
At the DMV, rows of roses.

The world was much crueler an hour ago.
I'm glad someone decided to give flowers a go.

Does my heart squeak when you squeeze it?
You seem to think of it as a toy
The way you came in like a train and ran me off of my own track

I actually felt something for the first time in my life
And for what?
Only to have the pain return and hide back inside my cave?

What were you thinking?
Is it fun for you, my clown?
To drive through meeting pretty girls and breaking hearts in every town?
I can't understand any of this ****
But I'm tired of the game and I'm ready to quit
I'm ready to blow and my wick has been lit

Don't say a word, my darlin'
I hope you cry
Someday when you can see the tears
you placed into my eyes

I'm off the wagon
Busted wheels threw me over
Sending me down a gravel driveway with no way to stop rollin'
I'll land somewhere new, soon enough
And I'll plant my flag in the ground
in attempt to claim my place
in someone's little town

Minnesota winter
This lake, that lake
The lake around the corner
Frozen, wholly
Catching fish through
Holes in the ice
Frostbite
Layers of snow packed deeper
And deeper
And deeper
Like an unsightly
Ice cream cake
Snowmobiles leaving traces
Of minus 40 races
Breath freezing to faces
And icicle trim laces
Something is serene
Though the air
Kind of smells like
Freezer burn
And hypothermia

I don't quite know how
You manage to make me feel
As loved as you do.

Blue braces
Fast paces
New faces
Mind races
Dark places
Cold spaces
Hard embraces
No traces.

I haven't been the same
since that summer I turned Nineteen.
Your tongue replaced Lortabs
and lit my blood like the finest whiskey.

My knuckles ache for your teeth,
not unlike my skin reminiscing
Of pale-skinned hands and nights spent
pretending to watch movies.