i want to be
your paper shooting-target
i will absorb every bullet you spit at me
and i will drift back to you
as you press a button

i want to be
your ant eater
your vaccuum cleaner
your band leader
i want to be
your Derek Jeter

you are a mansion,
i am your humble groundskeeper

I have to believe
The old saying holds true
the Pen is the mightiest weapon
Because if I stop
to think
And find it's not
I'll surely rot
and stink
I'll be the biggest
Pile of ****
you've ever stepped in.

I have to believe
the old saying holds true
without a Woman I am nothing
Because if I stop
to think
And find it's not
I'll surely sink
into the darkest
Depressed
Sea of Nothing.

do people poke people on Facebook often?
is that, like, a 'thing'?
what does that even mean?

what am i poking them with?
a truck
a stick
a taser
a ****
a flower
an eyefuck?

what does the poke feel like?
is it
cruel
savage
menacing
inappropriate
friendly
pleasurable
bliss­ful
ticklish?

to the girl in the deli
whose whipped-cream face
is topped with freckles,

to the girl who winked back at me,

to the girl whose eyes
are sanctuary,
like a red-glowing fire on
a brisk autumn evening

to the girl behind the counter
wearing a hair net
looking cuter than
i don't even know what,

to the girl with dainty fingers
and shapely hips
and thighs like a sunrise
that creeps slowly across a room
to slap it's warmth across my face,





what time do you get a break?

Meet me here
at a quarter passed four
in the morning.
I'll be the boy
in the duck sauce t-shirt
you can wear your favorite
Lollipop skirt.
I'll have my my secret
Neutron bomb.
Your hips will be destroyed.
I'll pull my bright red wagon
and a handful of other toys.
I'll dance the flute
and play a jig
You can drink as many
Long island ice teas as you want
I'll be your rodeo clown
Your laughing hyena
Your pinstriped suit
Your Knight that you dream of.