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croob Dec 2018
You need, indeed, a man, or steed,
a stallion of the purest breed, of course -
You need a muscled, manly horse -
A thoroughbred will do so nicely.
So here’s what I suggest you do:
Give up. Horses are quite pricey,
and clearly men don’t like you.

-Wisdom William
croob Nov 2017
Your fingers,
calloused
or soft
(I can't see
from here),
tighten
round your cart
and brush hair
from your face.
You look like
an oncoming ambulance.
You look like
your father
hates the life
out of you.
You pick out
a mango.
why do i have two poems set in grocery stores?
croob Jan 2018
you called me up.
it'd been a while
because i'd felt bad.
you needed help moving
out of that 'memory-infested
******' ****-hole' as you called it.
a rental truck stood in wait outside your house,
as did i.
we didn't wait long.
your face was the same, your body different.
your body screamed late night binge,
watching home videos
and crying into your takeout.
having a wife
and then suddenly not having a wife
will do that to ya.
you wiped a bit of sweat from your forehead
before it could gain traction
and trail down your face
like a salty
man-tear.
when we were done you looked exhausted,
and it was growing late,
but i was scared to leave.
"do you want a beer?" you said
so i think you were scared too.
we sat down on the couch, staring at the wall
almost pretending there was a tv mounted on it.
i resisted the urge
to tell you i was sorry,
*** who cares,
really, and
what if it killed the mood?
looking back
the mood was ****** anyway,
and i should've just hugged you.
croob Apr 2018
Oh desert rain,
watching out for me,
washing over me:
I find you waiting daily
at the day’s end.

Dear dying stars, dancing
across my eyelids,
alive, moving, breathing:
I find you more beautiful
than any woman.
croob Dec 2018
if you are afraid of boats
and afraid of swimming,
afraid of fighting a shark and
afraid of winning,
grow up.
croob Dec 2018
they say "write what you know"
so here i go:
croob Sep 2022
A divine creature sweetly dying
(The swan with sprained wings
and bald spots from digging her broken beak into the skin beneath the feathers)
Falls apart no more or less gracefully than a China-made toy.
Her pieces, once disassembled, make tragically languid laps around the surface of the lake.

Arbitrarily I decided that day would be THE day,
The day I stopped loving you.
I decided instead to go floating.
But to be honest with you,
I didn't feel like a swan.
I felt like garbage.

As the day grew to night, I realized it —
No one was coming to pick me up.
croob Dec 2018
She tells me to take things more seriously
or else no one will take me seriously.
I say, seriously?
An intervention?
She says no, no, nothing like that,
sitting in front of a banner bearing the words
INTERVENTION!!! with three
gaudy exclamations points, just like that.

god, how haven't you learned yet
to fix all your problems?
you forklift your issues, and in addition, you put on a front!
yes, all right, all right, but we’ve all got our goblins.
Not to mention your addictions - furthermore, your predelictions towards -
yes, all RIGHT, i know you’re right, but frankly, you’re a *****.
the banner flutters
to the floor.
just kidding, thanks for the honest and valid criticism of my character sincerely
croob Oct 2018
you make me feel like a sidewalk worm;
a toenail clipping; a new york rat.
you make no sense at all;
you make bad lasagna;
you make bad decisions;
you maybe thought we had something great going
but sometimes great things end:
blockbuster, britpop, the TV show Friends.

happy birthday,
by the way.
call me back
when you get this.
croob Oct 2018
routine as morning rooster's call,
death stares us down unblinkingly,
with the faint sting of alcohol.

without much willingness to brawl,
virility, agility,
or much of anything at all,

how could we be bound by thrall?
how far goes durability?
where has it gone, our wherewithal?

forgetful trees lose leaves in fall -
our lovers leave consistently,
routine as morning rooster's call.
croob Apr 2018
Jeremy draws a snail on his lips,
so that he won't forget how to say the word.
"Snail," he says, twisting his tongue around the syllable.
after he meets a cute limbless baby, he punches his own arm
to appreciate his capacity for arm pain.
Jeremy sells his house for five dollars
*** he feels bad
asking for more.
He also feels bad
pirating movies,
but not stealing donuts
to regift to the homeless.
Jeremy loves his dog
but not his wife.
Jeremy's nice
in a weird way.
croob Jul 2018
it's easy to be tragic, frank concludes,
and it's much harder to love
than to sit around and brood.
croob Apr 2018
a baby's foot
mom's womb

the soccer ball
the shoe

store owner staring
at shoplifter

a *******
his wife

it kicks
in
croob Nov 2018
value people’s time
break people's clocks

ask for forgiveness
not for permission

recognize your emotions
******* again
croob Jun 27
Abject misery – trashpile and **** –
Things whoever said and did –
Overthink and reminisce –
Until your brain collapses in.

Onward goes The Will, they say –
Like Wind persists throughout the day
Without a thought, a choice, a say –
A slave to Will, Till our decay!

**** a man, a woman too
For percieved wrongs they did to you
Score matters more than life or death
Beat them till there's no one left

Roam around the streets with bats,
You still won't get your lovers back

'I can't lose you' all you want,
But love is not a greedy taunt

'I can't leave you', all you say?
Just give up, he's on his way.
croob Apr 2018
My cat has apparently
decided to turn my house into a graveyard for rodents.
They turn up everywhere -
my tub, my sink, my bed -
but they all look so similar
that it could very well be the same mouse,
finding its way back in
every time I throw it out.

My cat looks proud of himself.
I ask, “When are you gonna stop?” and
“Why’d you have to put it in the toilet?”
But he can’t answer
through a mouthful of mouse fur.
croob Nov 2018
"We can do anything we like as long as it is
UNIMPORTANT. But in all IMPORTANT matters the system
tends increasingly to regulate our behavior."

Here, simply, is our delusion:
progression of society
is no idealist illusion.
Surrendering our dignity,
we traded our autonomy
for the same ****** technology
that leads us to singularity.
We could **** the scientists,
and burn the bots before they breathe,
bomb the books; desist, resist!
We offer up no real solutions
So all we ever do is seethe
craving counter-revolution,
so I guess it's up to me
to end Hawking singlehandedly
in the great name of Kaczynski,
the only logical solution
as far as opened eyes can see.
croob Apr 2018
There are stars in his fridge
that stink up his food
as though they are clusters of rotting milk chunks
amongst other junk.
No longer able to eat a meal
that doesn’t taste like outer space,
he gets so fed up he eats them,
and they taste so bad he pukes them.
Peering into murky toilet bowl water,
he can make out the faint twinkling
of a regurgitated star.
croob Aug 2023
He leaves in a hurry
I need him to stay
Otherwise worry
Becomes my day-to-day

A dozen short poems
Forgiveness abound
In order to show him
I want him around

I tell him I'm broken
I need to be fixed
He says that he's hoping
I'll get over it
men
croob Nov 2018
men
frogs are jumping, buns are *******,
men are wanting, grunting, hunting.

dogs are yapping, cats are napping,
men are fapping, snacking, lacking.

snails are leaving trails behind
while men are killing off mankind.
croob Nov 2018
fear of failure is my mistress, who lives
only to control me. she lives solely
in my thoughts, in the corners of my
dreams, and wears a mole under her
watchful, painted eye. i love her, but
she’s no good for me, and anyway, she
makes love to every lonely man she meets.
croob Jan 2019
frozen as a corpse
melting slowly
as a tortoise,
staring blankly,
no remorse,
solemn, silent,
almost done,
dying for
your bit of fun,
and still, still,
as the buried sun.
croob Apr 2022
The struggling fish flopped about, needlessly,
As the starved hawk cawed in distance near.
Slapping its ugly flesh down repeatedly,
Drumming funeral songs on bespeckled pier.

The bucking trout stopped breathing,
Unconsciously consumed by dismal fear.
As its respiration grew more measly,
The hawk’s path twinkled crystal clear.

Above the sea, the hawk glid greedily
As the wind’s whipping arms flailed ceaselessly
Above the sea, the trout stared beadily
As the sea’s mouth foamed and fizzled tearfully.

The belly of the bird, how it churned so needily
And the belly of the fish, how it tore so easily.
croob Apr 2018
I met him at his house,
stuck the check in my bag,
so many zeroes.
“Large price to pay,”
said his wife, arms crossed,
not liking the idea
of giving a younger woman money
to go deep inside her husband’s body.

I sunk into the old man
as though he was a post-work bath,
and the pain rose off his surface in steam-like tendrils.
I stretched and widened
to completely fill the shell of his large frame,
and after a few seconds of adjustment,
twisted a clumsy hand
to test my motor control.
I slunk out of his rocking chair,
and tripped over his legs as I tried to walk,
plummeting face down
into cat-haired carpet.

The wife
was giving me the stink eye.
“Arthur?” she asked, stupidly.
I shook my head.
Meanwhile, my body blinked awake from the couch
and was overtaken by a large smile,
Arthur’s blissful grin looking
peculiar on my lips.
The old man,
inhabiting my body,
reached out a hand to glide against
his wife’s mechanically smooth arm:
“Come here,” he requested.
She made a face, said she’d be back
when we were done, and left.

Now it was just me and him,
or him and me,
depending on how you look at it.
We laid down on his bed together:
me because i’d become suddenly exhausted,
and Arthur to take
his first real rest in a while.

No matter how I adjusted the pillow,
My wrinkled head throbbed.

We tried to play cards,
but Arthur’s hands shook in a way
I was not used to
so we had to stop.
He kept thanking me over
and over and over and over as i replied:
it’s my job,
no problem,
it’s my job, no problem,
and rubbed away the aches
in my temporary legs.

When the session was over
he bolted out the door.
I couldn’t move without hurting,
but I didn’t need to chase him:
I called him and told him
if he didn’t bring my body back
I would steal his credit card
and his wife.
“Bodies are places to visit
but you can’t vacation forever,” I said.
When he returned he wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“I’m not really a thief,” he let me know.
“Okay,”
I said, skeptical,
putting my hand on my own shoulder
and cozying back into my body,
which was a little stretched out.

I could feel him watch me leave
in excruciating jealousy.
croob Apr 2018
Oh, *****,
the one I rode
in my old country abode.

Though of length you had a dearth,
I shan’t soon forget your girth,
the warmth of that width a stone-lined hearth.

To wrap my hand around your body
was a breeze; overall you weren’t too shoddy,
and I could hold you with such ease.
croob Oct 2022
After tender feelings fade
And hard ones follow suit
I still think about you babe
And I still think you're cute

After we knew for certain
We were done being in love
We closed the final curtains
And pushed it all under the rug

But darling I adore you
Even more now than before
And sweetheart I implore you
To remember what we were
This is not about you. This is a platonic poem.
croob Nov 2018
i can be found
crawling around,

pitifully, painstakingly
picking **** from the carpet,

thinking
of you,

of quitting
my job,

of calling
you up,

of calling
in sick,

of beating
my ****,

but i never
do.
croob Aug 2018
pavlov kicks his snarling dogs,
stomps their greedy, hungry paws!

mendel needs his daily greens,
so he eats his ******* peas!

around around around we go;
we would prefer not to know.
pa
croob Jul 2018
pa
we've been living off
stale corn chips
dust particles
and termites

the tower of pisa
stacked beside ma's bed
she won't put them in the sink
let alone wash them

i know she's up all night
'*** i'm up all night also
twisting and turning
and stephen colbert
croob Jun 2018
inside: me,
standing on a stranger's pool table,
swaying to trap music like a ballad,
but humming an AC/DC song
to the cheers of
my fellow drunkards.

outside: men,
fighting in the pool
punching, splashing
smiling while grunting.
blood from a burly one’s lip
mixing with chlorine. I think
I spot a tooth floating around in there,
but it could be a trick of the light.
croob May 2019
I brought Patsy to Petsmart for a while
and walked her through the aisles.
I bought her a new collar for ten dollars
so that she could strut with style.

We went to Wendy's for dinner
and she got ketchup on her feathers.

Will I go to hell
if I fed my chicken
chicken fingers?
croob Mar 2020
Here she comes, a runaway train

I chase her, pleading
Please, baby
Take me back!

She doesn't hear me,
(She is a train)
And speeds off.
croob Nov 2017
When did you first start loving soup?

He considers this. “When i was around six.”

What was the first soup you fell in love with?

“Chicken noodle soup.” He says this as if it is blindingly obvious, and maybe it is.

Do you have any aspirations, soup wise?

“I have really wanted minestrone soup recently.”

What is that?

“It’s like really good.”

Oh.

“Yeah.”
croob Jun 30
Having mistaken my bruised face for a sunset
With its bashful hues of yellow, purple, red
I went to touch it, for a moment
Then wished I'd touched the moon instead.

(I have a feeling like none other
A feeling which makes sense
When I raise my fist and cover
My body up with dents)

Beauty is somewhat subjective;
You cannot argue that.
I find this method most effective,
My body as a punching bag
Which never can fight back.
croob Nov 2018
The best people
are just the least bad people.

You can touch my body,
but never me.

The reality is:
I spend all my time avoiding it.
croob May 2019
She spread her legs and said "eat this *****!"
I said I couldn't, because it was Ramadan.
She slammed her legs shut
like a door closed in anger
and told me to "eat ****, then!"
but I couldn't,
because it was Ramadan.
croob Apr 2018
We briefly stop arguing
five hours into the road trip;
exhaustion reigns
over resolution.
I lean my weary head
against the window
and lock eyes
with a French bulldog
******* mightily
on the sidewalk.
Its owner notices me,
furrows his brow,
and menacingly clenches
his grasp on a plastic bag,
which I assume he uses
to collect the dog’s waste.
I avert my gaze
and look anxiously
back at you.
You had been looking too;
now we are laughing.
croob Jan 2019
there is a look my mother wears
when she bears bad news,
like she is sorry to be speaking.
she reeked of sorrow and cheap *****;
her voice is ugly when its squeaking.
tears were flowing easy like good writing when she shut the door.
i took a bath to ruminate, and then i took a shower too,
i scrubbed and sobbed and scrubbed some more,
but nothing could clean me of you.
rip
croob Dec 2018
rip
i eat some dirt for nutrients
but some worms crawl into my mouth
their guts erupt like mount vesuvius
they're in my throat now, get them out!

but then i choke, and soon i'll croak,
the worms spread through my sinuses
and all because i was too broke
to buy some ******* vitamins.
croob Jan 2019
the strangest sight does not perturb me
the strongest wind can not rustle me
i have seen the grass grow and die
i've seen the vultures feast and fly
i am a helpless standerby

i tip my hat
to the crows who land on my shoulder as if to say,
"you do not scare me,"
for i do not mean to.
croob Nov 2018
i lay stargazing
silent as the absent sun
gravity grounds me
like the touch of my woman
like the very thought of her
croob Apr 2018
Hermit ***** sleep deep
piled up and closed-keep,
‘*** Hermit ***** need friends.
but if you ain’t a Hermit Crab
don’t give a Hermit crab an ‘in’;
for if you ain’t no Hermit Crab,
Hermit ***** will be your ends.

good old Geoffrey especially,
his Hermit shell an endless well of money.
you may be taken hostage
by his Hermit eyes of blinding honey,
but close those eyes against the sun
and he won’t even see ya, sonny.

watch out for them Hermit *****,
or they’ll watch out for you instead.
if you don’t watch out for Hermit *****;
Hermit *****
watch you be dead.

just trust me on this,
i’ve, long ago, been There.
I would not be sayin’ it
if I didn’t Deeply care.

you know the information now,
do with it
what you dare.
croob Jan 2019
"A new dawn has dawned upon us,
like a spawned epiphany.
Spring has sprung, the snow has melted;
I've known love, but never felt it.
The gloom has gone, our days are brighter,
yet I've never been more tired.
Here we go again, like hamsters,
spinning in our endless wheels.
A brand new season, a brand new cancer -"

"Chill," she says. "Drink some chamomile."
croob Aug 2023
'How I love you, how I do!'
Said the hammock to the noose.
'Thank you kindly, much ado,'
Fled the bluebird from the goose.

Then said the bonnet to the bee:
'I've been there for you all along,
I'm so patient, caring, strong;
Why's it that you don't love me?'

'Sting I must and sting I do.
I have my reasons – good ones too.
This doesn't mean I don't love you.'
croob Jan 2019
how to write wit that resonates?
how can i break through to you?
what if i can't satiate
the reader's need for gloom and doom?
perhaps i want to write about
my dog and not my misery.
he's got a tiny snout! i shout.
he's small, yet long! i declare,
but no one seems to ******* care.
croob Apr 2019
scrubbing the grime from my skin,
cutting my nails with a knife,
plucking the hairs on my chin,
oh my god, this is the life.

taking care of yourself is in style
and being hygenic is fun;
shower just every once and a while,
and dry off well when you're done.

i pick big scabs from my flat ***
and brush my teeth until they're white.
daily, i eat eyeballs en masse
in hopes of improving my sight.

being hygenic is fun
and taking care of yourself is in style.
this body is your only one
so treat it gently like a crying child.
croob Apr 2022
Last night I gleaned the bean within a dream
I picked him up, to sneak a closer peek:
Small in stature, held in high esteem,
I ate him with a sense of awe indeed.

He fed me with protein and fiber -
Without complaint or expectation!
I washed him down with apple cider,
And shat out their amalgamation!

Lovely as all beans can be essentially
Teeming with a truly wholesome beauty
He hugged my gut somewhat caressingly
As he made his patient trek right through me.

Such a fine gentleman is rarely seen;
If only we could be that bean!
croob Oct 2018
fur crusting over with blood,
entrails pouring from a gap
in its gut, the cat laid supine
with an indiscernable
emotion frozen on its face.
georgia watched from behind us,
crossing-uncrossing her arms.
Is he dead yet, are you done?
i thought so, but prodded it
to be sure. some blood seeped out;
it lay still as the surrounding air.
Gentler with the knife, she said.
i responded, Why’s it matter,
it’s dead, you know? and stabbed it.
‘*** you’re gonna make me cry!
No use crying over it,
i said; she cried for a while.
croob Nov 2017
I am king
of Wal-mart,

sitting high
in throne of $70 wicker chair.

“ this is
my kingdom. “

the toy aisle
thinks me a tyrant,

the way I bend
and break its barbies.

“ son,
we have to get going, “

dad says,
so I exile him,

plastic sword pointed
to his back.

“ no more
of your shouting! “

I live here now,
ruler of spoiling dairy.
childhood
croob Oct 2018
if your dad tells you 'get your grades up, son'
beat that nerd to death with his own copy
of moby ****;
what a square.

if your dog's breathing sounds like a vacuum
and strangers look at him with pained remorse,
give him more food,
go ahead,

but if you want to play the clarinet
to your hungry heart's content,
well dear, no one
WANTS TO HEAR IT
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