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david badgerow Mar 2017
as honeysuckle grows tight on the fence
& the scent of jasmine burns in my nose
i can hear a child's laughter on the hills
& watch your cheeks burn hotter than the sun
when you tell me about your **** addict mother

how she lived in the econo-lodge dumpster for a while
painting cryptic symbols & mountain landscapes
on the outside walls still wearing the unsteady boots
she's had since her life in colorado
but she was scared of someone checking in it
while she slept so she didn't sleep
instead she conversed with the wimpering wind
& used the toy telescope she stole from your baby brother
to sing to the stars so she didn't feel so ******* alone

last summer you say she camped in the graveyard
behind the methodist church in town & spray-painted
the headstones as they climbed up the hill together
because she harbors too much pride to be
just another tweaker with her hand out

she's on guard against wickedness at all times & no longer
sells her love to method-acting men who don't love her at all
but she doesn't wear ******* anymore either because
her last pair were so soiled with *** she burnt them
in effigy on their last night of action

you say you miss her
& wish she'd get sober
but she's never been sober
& that's why your brother
was born with a stutter

she has warrants for her arrest in two counties
& surrounds herself with withering flowers because
she feels dead inside already
when she sinks her face into
the stem of the bulb & inhales she thinks
she is the one thing in the galaxy
god doesn't have his finger in
her stomach churns with hunger
flies hover around her & light on her
big as black crows resting on a dead tree

you say you haven't heard about her in
going on a month & ask me if i think
she's still alive
i say i saw her just last week
i was a pensive beetle perched on the wainscoating
she was stumbling out of a parked car at dawn
to take a wilderness **** down by the river

her smile is no longer a pretty thing i noticed
as she crouched to release the stream of early morning
maple syrup ***** knocking on the biological door
she said she's slept in her bedroom-car
so many consecutive nights that she distrusts houses
says she's scared of walls &
****** outside so many mornings after
that she's terrified of bathrooms
claims an allergy to porcelain
she even feigns an aversion to trains but
we've all seen the tracks on her arms
& the pits in her cheeks like she
sleeps draped across the railroad
at night tempting the cycloptic executioner

but she doesn't sleep at all &
she doesn't dream of you or your brothers or
of the days when she lived in a house
her tattoos have all become crude wax crayon
depictions of sunflower blossoms
needle drags & match strikes
she wraps & braids her hair with gnarled fingers
& bottle caps she finds on the riverbank
she bathes in hysteria at midnight
& washes her swollen eyelids each morning with dew
she fights paranoia with the ghosts in her throat
& stupor with stones from the dark bottom of the river
she is a frail bag of muscular potential living
in a finger-painted 97 pontiac sunfire with
a splintered patchwork windshield
& she is never coming back to love you
david badgerow Oct 2011
maybe

I'll write
                                               something

better tomorrow
david badgerow Feb 2014
you had "tabula rasa" tattooed across your face.
and at first it was charming.
i thought i was being gracious by ******* you.
you knew nothing but you had dimples.
i thought i could teach you, mold you, make you into a woman.
you had the hips for it.
but you were raised in a cardboard box in the unbent hills.
you only had maybe seven words in your vocabulary
"yes" "no" "i don't know" and "**** me harder"
okay, that's eight.

but you are just a girl living in a soggy paper bag.
this life is a circus where
rescued dogs flick cigarettes on orphans
a paradise i've seen in my dreams a hundred times
i'm riding atop the wild tiger you sleep behind and
you're small minded and i'm ugly on the inside
it's raining sharp shadows
and derisive rocks on the forgotten tombstones
of your favorite pets
while you sit at a bay window comfortable and dumb
and you went back to him, of course you did
demanding to be loved.
to be forgiven.
and of course he forgave you
what, with those dimples.


i'm a *******, unshaved today.
a baby bounced down steps.
yes, i deserve this.
i'm climbing collapsible tables,
searching the lost shores like
a rich man staggering in a moment of hysteria,
scattering ***** across an afternoon.
i'm rising above the trees to caw
and cry at you from a distance,
singing on hot wires, frightened of my own voice.

i'm always making up imaginary scenes
and i'll leave you alone now.
i broke up with her, but it still ****** me off.
david badgerow Oct 2011
I was going to write today
But this morning I felt like ****
My stomach was all knotted up
And the pounding in my head wouldn't quit.

I saw your face and it made me sick
So I said
"**** this"
And went back to bed.
david badgerow Nov 2011
another one
where i
don't know what
to say;
burrito
david badgerow Oct 2011
i almost cried tonight
as i was smoking a cigarette
these thoughts have long hung over me
like a black cloud of bad debt
and i know sharing this is
something i'll probably regret
i take doses of insanity
but i haven't been diagnosed yet
i am not swift with stability
on a swivel my life is set
my moon is filled with water
but it hasn't burst yet
my hands are growing quite shaky now
and my body is drenched in sweat
just as soon as you are reading this
i hope you just as soon, forget
david badgerow Oct 2011
Have you ever set fire to a cop car
And taken three steps back
to watch it burn?
I mean,
neither have I,
but I bet it'd be warm.

I bet it'd be beautiful.
I bet it'd feel great.
I bet you'd smile.
david badgerow Oct 2011
I can see
a candle waving
in the window sill
and
I can see your silhouette
but only because
you stand so still.

The light--
it dances around you.

I can see
dawn's light breaking
together with
the morning dew
and
I can see your happy place
but only
because I'm laying
here with you.

So tight--
my arms surround you.
david badgerow Dec 2011
i drank one
whole river of bourbon on
this very night

i smoked two
and a half butterflies
and now i can speak in colors

i took three hits off
this cloudy chick
and now i can sing like a sparrow

i snorted four
lines of sunshine
and now i can pull an all-nighter

i freebased five
pearls from the ocean
and now i can smile much brighter

i injected six
fireflies into my arm
this very night

i took seven
dandelions, and mixed them in a bowl
and now i can tell you all
the secrets of my soul

i swallowed eight
droplets of Hoffman's best blend
and now i can tell you
how this world will end

i ****** nine
of nature's best nymphs
on this very night

i infused ten
different sunsets
and now i can tell you the time
david badgerow Nov 2011
i am illumination

i am the greatest idea you've ever had,
skittering across your mind at 1:17 am
i dare you to catch me

i am elimination

i am the empty space where
your dream should be
i dare you to sink into me

i am concentration

i am your great brow furrowed in frustration
twittering fingers and fidgeting knees
i dare you to set me free

i am disintegration

i am your subsequent writer's block at 1:20 am
because
everyone knows
the greatest idea you've ever had
vanishes into thin air
as soon as you find a pen.
david badgerow Nov 2011
Matilda has been rolling cigarettes all morning.
Her fingers are nimble and pinching
"We're going out tonight," she says,
And I don't know what that means.

"But I have to work late again," I say,
But to Matilda, that does not matter.
Matilda does not mind.

Peter has been pacing around all morning.
His feet are bare and his toes are flinching
"I'm going to lose it tonight," he says,
And I don't know what that means.

"But you've tried so hard to keep it," I say,
But to Peter, this is meaningless chatter.
Peter has lost his mind.
david badgerow Oct 2011
if i was a tree i'd have roots so ******* deep
you wouldn't ******* believe it.

if i was a drunk man i'd hold the ground
steady with my face.

if i was sunlight i'd burn the **** outta your shoulders
and then change into Aloe
before you even ******* noticed.

if i was a racecar i could only be driven backwards
but i'd go fast as **** because
my rubber is hot.

if i was a huge cedar chest i'd keep secrets inside myself
because no one ******* cares about them
and i'd keep hope there too in case someone
started to.

if i was an alarm clock i'd let you pound me in your sleep
but i'd still scream at you in the
early hours of the morning
because without me you'd ******* die.

if i was a hurricane i'd blow right through your back yard
but leave everything untouched
and you standing there admiring my girth.
david badgerow Nov 2011
i haven't slept in two nights
i live my life from
cigarette to cigarette
i live my life from
word to word

i haven't brushed my teeth in two days
i live my life from
bustop to bustop
i live my life from
raindrop to raindrop

i haven't had *** in two weeks
i live my life from
pestilence to perjury
i live my life from
decadence to debauchery

i spend my days in the sun
i spend my days in a stupor
i spend my days in a sofa
i spend my days in a state of confusion

i will rest my head on a brick tonight
and i will dream of a young girl with blue eyes
being swept away on the crest of a blue wave

i will dream of selling my soul for a handful of quarters for laundry
i will dream of old eyes by firelight, and old war stories
i will dream of a blindfolded angel with fire for hair walking slowly across a room
i will dream of a clear night sky in the country
so black but i can see the stars,
my god can i see the stars

i will dream of a world as bright as the sun
burning and falling to the ground
burning and falling to the ground
burning and falling to the ground
david badgerow Oct 2011
I know a girl who's not very nice
I know a girl who'll hold your ****
in a vice and
I know a girl who will stay out all night.

I know a girl who won't fly a kite
I know a girl who does things
out of spite and
I know a girl who won't look good in white.

I know a girl who's repulsed by splendor
I know a girl who returns love letters
to senders and
I know a girl who's a terrible pretender.

I know a girl who won't laugh at my jokes
I know a girl who made it all
one big hoax and
I know a girl and I hope she chokes.
david badgerow Jan 2014
a liar once told me that i write good poetry
i laughed and continued drinking,
the sudden rush of despair, the wicked beast, the dry pages
the man had no credentials
but he persisted, declaring me an inspiration
like seeing a strand of hair attract a magnet
or amber jewels lolling in a dimly lit case

imagination is a felony, i wagered as i poured another
a combustion i know like the back of my hands
i told him i dreamt of a morgue where everyone i ever loved
sat upright as sunflowers, declaring their love for the sun
and of a newspaper rife with disease and the passion of a janitor

there is a raccoon near a river somewhere cleaning an apple
with a heart as big as an artist in drunken euphoria
taking better care of it than me when i sit down at a typewriter
it's wearing a cape just like edgar allen poe
and having better conversation with an oak tree than i've ever had at a party
about the sunday crossword puzzle he completed  

yesterday i drank myself into a masquerade ball
arriving in a limousine being driven by a bearded mickey mantle
i was the guest of honor, sword fighting on table tops
and lecturing the guests about shakespeare through a garbage disposal
while a horse played backgammon with my father's brother
and there was a girl there behind the facade of an owl
who danced like the wind and everlasting light
and no one could stop her or look her in the eye

i am the only connection between my mind and the paper
merely a vessel, a john boat clearly breaching it's depth
either drowning like a fish in a sand dune or
being bounced like a baby on the knee of god
slavery, i call it, and hand him a glass of warm bourbon
as the splashing of my journal pages slap my crushed trachea

the typewriter is padlocked and painted over with cement
the metamorphosis trapped inside a bullet, boiling with sheer fury
david badgerow Jun 2013
when we were just kids living in Nebraska
running through cornstalks holding hands
where the sun died crazy deaths over the mountains
you were my neighbor
and the bank took our land

i would've never imagined
you living in a whiskey barrel
offering ******* and squawking squirts
giving them away for free
to hideous former cowboys
substituting laughter for anger

intead,
a moment like this:
finding you alone on the banks
of a dull river
shivering,
swinging from a branch
david badgerow Jun 2013
i enjoy the finer things in life
a math teacher in a sundress
leaning over a coffee cup
to place three fingers on my forearm

later on, lights off
her lace on the floor
she sent an invitation into outer space
that arrived at my door.

although black isn't my favorite color,
it runs a close second to red
we discussed this and other menial facts
sharing my last cigarette
sweating underneath the bed.
prompted by the front page poem about grad school.
david badgerow Nov 2011
don't remind me
that the rent's due on tuesday
when i'm ***** deep
inside your sister.
don't expect me
to text you right back
if you call when
i'm getting a *******.
don't worry me
about getting groceries
if i'm busy
******* the earrings
off of your sister.
don't remind me
about the dishes in the sink
when i'm obviously
out of your reach.
david badgerow Mar 2015
i swear
but i'll sleep under your bed if you'll let me &
eat the dust in the crawl space between your kitchen walls
when you're entertaining guests &
only come out when they're in another room
or you ask me to

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i'm actually on this ladder fixing your neighbor's gutter
yes this same spot has been damaged for three years
& deserves a complex solution arrived at by
strenuous deliberation

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i'm not wearing the cologne you bought your ex
for christmas last year & threw out
into the aluminum trashcan six months ago
because that ******* didn't appreciate you
like i could

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i don't know how your mail gets mixed up with mine
at least twice a week the postman must be dyslexic
& also trade his mailbag with the guy who delivers mine
for five dollar bribes

i'm not stalking you
i swear
it's just funny we go to the same dentist &
you have such white teeth my mother would love
you if only for them

i'm not stalking you
i swear
this idea hasn't been growing in my brain since
i was an innocent boy spurting his essence into
a gym class knee high sock at night after
watching baywatch reruns

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i don't spend my days wondering if i should get
****** piercings
because you seem like the type to enjoy them

i'm not stalking you
i swear
i walk home this way too but instead
of a third floor elevator ride in a gated community
on the next block i'll continue three more blocks
west take the train back south four miles & finish
cutting through alleys for another mile until i
arrive at my own cellar apartment

it's not out of my way
i don't mind taking an alternative route

i'm not stalking you
i swear
but your cheekbones are stealing my sleep
& when i do dream you turn your ***
toward me not in surrender but
defiance that vicious
dilated ******* and heavy flesh
taunting me in my own
fleabed forever
david badgerow Nov 2011
I'm only doing
something this
short because
maybe I'll belong.
david badgerow Oct 2011
in a dream, you were a nuclear bomb and i was a village
and you blew me all to shreds
i mean complete obliteration

in that same dream, i was waiting for the Man
and i was at the bus stop
i mean i don't actually ride the bus

in a dream, you were a grown woman and i was a man crying
and you held me in your hands
i mean we had rough *** for hours

in that same dream, i was lying through my teeth
and i was a trigger happy ***** cop
i mean i didn't actually take the money
david badgerow Jun 2012
i spent that whole night sweating
lying beside you in bed
delicately ******* that spot
on the small of your back
but not even breathing
in fear of
your
waking.
david badgerow Jul 2014
you were there for me the first night
i got drunk and drove home
smelling like cigarettes
you were inconsolable
gave me ginger ale
got on your hands and knees
scrubbed ***** out of my mother's new carpet

when i tried to apologize the next morning
through tattered lips and clammy pores
you just smiled, kissed my eyelids
gave me water, let me orbit the drain

on my 17th birthday, you were there
when i drank myself into impotence
showed you hidden things in dresser drawers
we snored our futures into the same pillow
you lied to my friends, said i took your virginity
and i didn't ask you to

i was there for you the first day
of the 9th grade when both your eyes were closed
but you were pretty in your
matching purple sundress,  i kissed your ears
as if i could leap into your body
live there awhile
you said your brother gave them to you
he was born drunk and mean

i was there for you when he died
early on a cold morning in december
we shot bottle rockets
into the sky, so glad to be alive
welcomed the sun shivering naked in the river
drank an 11 dollar bottle of champagne
giggled and ****** on the floral tablecloth
of your mother's kitchen table

i was there, whispering lyrics in your ear
watching white pigeons in my periphery
as the grave of your best friend
pulled salt out of your eyes
you were inconsolable
i held onto you as if
you would float away
i still believe you might
i've been holding strong ever since
david badgerow Jan 2012
i can't decide
if i want
to outlive
the night
david badgerow Dec 2011
the bad news is coming in
we are being radically changed

be realistic
stop poisoning the air and water
stop soil erosion
stop degrading forest ecosystems
stop seducing children
stop buying politicians

realism
informs us
in a cuckoo clock

we
need a coninuous supply
of indifference and violence
toward people

all of us are suffering
recreationally
david badgerow Feb 2022
we used to lie awake at night
in the winter months
i kept a warm water bottle
at my feet like it was the old days on the frontier

we used to bet against freedom
and the people out there
"i bet i never make it out of here alive"
and clock the psych patients pacing
with the shards of
bathroom tiles in their hands

or make promises to it
"i'm gonna drink up all the freedom i can find out there"
"i'll snort all the dirt road dust
that the watermelon bus kicks up"
"i'm gonna mainline it directly into my vein
so much that my head gets heavy
and i swing back
and aspirate my one and only dream
and ******* into my blue jeans"
david badgerow Feb 2012
In the heart of your ears through splendid cities pierced with light,
the river murmurs of mad seas in lonesome rooms
of the veins in the arms of notorious daughters, oh blue waters!
i sing and the woods sing!
she stands polka dotted in a great bronze chariot
the shivering willows like an ***** of iron down the long black river
we entwine our thin arms and great conquering black eyes
the sky is hell-red where the stars are sleeping.
in the sacred woods, under the light of the horizon
the poet speaks of eternal voice *****-pipes;
I cared nothing for all the horrible spinning eyes of the ferris wheel,
clamouring birds seen as archipelagos and the eyes of panthers

nodody gives a **** about real birds like the voluptuous coyote eagle
david badgerow Dec 2011
last night
i slept on the ground
under my house
and used a vaccuum cleaner
as a pillow

i was wearing
roller skates
david badgerow Dec 2011
the world sits on the wing of a dove
being swallowed whole by a fiery goddess
descended from heaven on a chariot of ivy
i am incarcerated by shaking flesh and itching cloth
the road before me is giant and knows no bounds
the graveyard is warm and wet with spirits and dew
and red clouds are born from fire in the dawn
there is an intelligent horse being ridden by a snarling insect
and this man has come to claim our souls
our sunset blood burns boils blisters until a million animals wounded
i'm still alive, transfigure me into a creator
choke up my nostrils with the scent of your ***
invade my lungs with the burn of your god
caress my toungue with the infinite promise
enter my brain from above, and regurgitate your anxiety on me
slimy worms devour a psychadelic tomato laughing
into transendency, an eyeless eel has dissappeared into a pocket
i speak from balconies, from terrible heights, from hastened windowsills
in a million desperate quarrelling cities
this is where i **** up illusion, i give up to despondency
i ring the great iron bell that resounds with corruption, with hatred, with hideous *** and admiration,
i scream and cavort on rooftops alone with a black & blue midnight
covered in electric lights and gunpowder tongues
here comes the disintegration of my mind
disgraced by the eye of the earth and spat into
a realm of salivating light
i am swimming through digested heartbreak and melancholy livers
sickened by madness and homemade bombs and ******
the rainclouds carry a truckload of babies' hearts
and it's raining eyes over the city now
the cry of the mind escapes from waving mouths in impotence
as millions of bacteria invade the brain
may these lines be answered by the bird of the sun
by the worm at my ear
by the sight of my skeleton
by the stench of ***** in the air
by the dead gong shivering through midnight
by the bleeding eye of abandoned dreams
by the prophets in proclamation
by the god of all my sorrows
david badgerow Jan 2014
the destroyers are out to destroy
they are the heat of the night
******-burned bodies trembling in the jungle
they are bullets nestled silently into the back of one's head
babies dangling from their mother's limp arms as
she builds herself a new body
made out of the countryside & the trees & dynamite
and she will bring the explosion at dawn
i could fit the memory of last night in a wine bottle
i fell asleep in the dumpster and you kissed me with your wine stained lips
in the morning i hoisted the sunrise into a wheelbarrow and headed west.

now i don't know who or what i am
all i need is a soapbox to stand on
or a cliff to climb
a little solitude
i need to be regurgitated as smoke
hanging over three lanes of asphalt
i need a valley with soft green carpet
and a pretty girl's adolescent thighs
i need my face shoved in her *****
i need the enormous bliss of a long afternoon
i need to find the intersection of
our intimate streets.
david badgerow Dec 2011
not everyone who holds a pen is a writer.
not everyone who rides a horse is a jockey.
not everyone who clips their toenails is a podiatrist.
not everyone who smokes knows the feeling.
not everyone who chokes is a sadist.
not everyone who lies is an actor.
not everyone who wears a moustache is a communist.
not everyone who smiles is the sunlight.
not everyone who tries is a failure.
not everyone who shouts knows the silence.
not everyone who cries knows depression.
not everyone who laughs gets the joke.
not everyone who speaks is a teacher.
not everyone who hears truly listens.
not everyone who died really lived.
david badgerow Nov 2011
I have been buried in a flowering sofa
I have been buried in punk rock guitar
I was swimming in a sea of orange juice
I wish I believed in unicorns and innocence
I wish my roots ran deeper
I was ******* us over in the middle of November
I was in way over my head
I have a cramp in my side-stomach
I have terrible sleeping habits
I have been carried by prophets up hills of redemption and
I have spent Sunday afternoons with ****** in basements
I have spent days huddled around burning xmas trees
I have a mind that suggests disease, and is riddled with laughter
I have drifted directionless on an autumn breeze
I have prayed to the gods of ***, before and after
I have been tossed about on shapeshifting seas.
david badgerow Nov 2011
persistent
Sisyphus
engulfed
in
flame;
saved
by
a
Rolling Rock
david badgerow Apr 2013
i'm still a poor *******,
i'd still give a canadian a cigarette,
probably won't ever **** a man
but if i do,
he'll die with my
respect.
david badgerow Oct 2011
It was daytime:

I was seperating siamese twins
at the waist
Like a government
trying to quell a rebellion;

I was reconfiguring
scarred old wooden toys
for Santa;
shining scuffed shoes--
pennyloafers with nickels
in the slots.

It was daytime:

I was decapitating
red-haired stepchildren
who had grown
sour from neglect;
removing brilliant succubi attached
to a wholesome family's
soul.

I was snacking on a
nerds rope,
washing babies mouths out
with soap,
slapping pink cheeked
toddlers on their feet.
david badgerow Nov 2011
i was standing on a street corner yesterday
and cars were whizzing passed me
i was reading nothing
i was drinking coffee
i was smoking
i was minding my own business

a man walked up to me on the street corner
and he asked me what time
my watch said it was

i told him.


he walked away.


my watch hasn't kept time
for weeks.
i don't wear a watch, actually.
david badgerow Oct 2011
I wasted my words
I wasted your ears
I wasted my time
learning all your likes and fears

I've wasted some sunrises
and
I've wasted some sunsets
and
If I could drink them
I'd get wasted
on my own regrets

I wasted your soft skin
you wasted my touch
but I guess to you
it doesn't matter too much

Because you're on
to the next one,
and I'm left right here
thinking thoughts full of sorrow
and sharing them with my beer

I wasted your glistening body
I wasted your ***
In my head I was wasted
about the future,
like a house with a yard
and just two pets.

I wasted your lips
you wasted your lies
but I don't wish you harm
or hope that
anyone in your family
dies

No, if I find a wishbone
this one thing I'll truly wish
that the next guy you ****
has something
very itchy
on his ****.
david badgerow Oct 2011
I was there
when they built the cathedrals
I was there
and I watched them stand tall
I was there
for the villagers' upheaval
I was there
and I answered their call

I was there
when they fought in ancient Rome
I was there
and I watched poor men die far from home
I was there
when we ate just like kings
I was there
and I fed you a grape
I was there
when they sold you into slavery
I was there
and I helped you escape

I was there
when ****** built an army
I was there
when Stalin rose to fame
I was there
in the Jewish death camps
I was there
and I forgot my own name

I was there
I was a pickpocket in London
I was there
when Dickens wrote the Twist
I was there
when it happened, all the sudden
I was there
and I raised up my fist

I was there
with Daniel and the lions
I was there
when he went down to that cave
It had
nothing to do with a God up in heaven
It had
something to do with the knowledge he craved.
david badgerow Nov 2011
i will rock you out tonight
i will shoot your sputnik to the moon
i will be an itch in the crotch of your space suit
i will be inside you
i will crush a star and sprinkle it in your hair
i will open your eyes and
i will open your mouth
i will start you up
i will let you loose
i will hold pure life in my hands
i will sleep on another couch tonight
i will dream of famine and golden wheat fields
i will dream of contradiction
i will recite the lords prayer
i will pull us under and
i will ***** a device that will bring us afloat
david badgerow Oct 2011
I will write until
the last words jump to the page
or
my hands grow withered and weary from age.

I will write until
my thoughts turn sour
or
I take the final plunge off some bank's high tower.

I will write until
there's nothing left to find
or
I start leasing the attic of my mind.

I will write until
the Great Salvation comes, to save us from the rapture
or
If it doesn't, and we're left here, I'll keep writing long after.

I will write until
with words, the perfect image do I capture
or
If I can't, I will try until all the bones in my hand are fractured.

I will write until
I have conquered the Hunger
or
If I don't, please feel free to take a knife and slip me under.
david badgerow Nov 2014
my ***** throb this morning
the way they do when a girl
demands to sleep in my bed
but refuses to cup them with
her hand or mouth or a com-
bination or rotation of both.
they hold pent-up anger or
cruelty, energy or love and
destruction that will be wa-
sted into the toilet bowl, or
a bed's sheet, or kleenex or
all three of these before 12.
yeah, it's a ******* poem. get the **** over it.
david badgerow Oct 2011
A recipe
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was half-baked,
but what is edible will say:
something about instructions,
something about parts making a whole,
something about convection,
something about mixing in a bowl,
something about dough
and something about kneading
something about confections,
something about breathing.

An epitaph
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was rotten,
what wasn't will rise and say:
something about a journey,
something about fate,
something about love and
something about hate,
something about laying on a gurney
and something about decay,
something about destiny,
something about history,
then it might yawn
and lay back in its grave

A pamphlet
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some parts were mute,
others that weren't will speak and say:
something about tolerance,
something about abuse,
something about inhalants
and something about a noose.

A brochure
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was fake,
but what is real will last and say:
something about a lawyer,
something about curruption,
something about justice
and how it serves a function,
something about admittance,
something about plastic surgery
and breast reduction,
and a catholic priest mumbling
something about perjury.

A eulogy
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was dead,
but what was alive will stand and say:
something about a life
and something about living,
something about a wife
and something about a thing worth giving,
something about a family
and something about foes;
something about winning
and something about woes.

A book
I wrote one of those in my head today;
some of it was filth;
but what was clean will shine and say:
something about character,
something about freedom,
something about development
and something about respect
something about supplement,
something about unity,
something about revolution
and how I think the world should be.

A song
I wrote one of those in my head today;
but it was a bird and it flew away,
If all that's left is just one dying wing
it would flap around
on the ground
and try to sing:
something in near-pefect pitch
something bluesy and
about a *****;
then probably something about flight
and finally something about a
bright white light.

A poem
I wrote one of those in my head today;
the lines were seeds
I planted before the cold;
some froze out, some took hold
but what remains grows bold and will say:
something about a heart,
and how you had it from the start;
something about sunlight,
and how you make it seem less bright;
something about the wet wet rain
something about willingness
and something about refrain.
david badgerow Oct 2011
Alright, *****, here-- I wrote you a sonnet.
Your eyes can see & you can read, what do you mean, 'what's on it?'
Oh that ring there? (cough) That's just the place where I set my whiskey glass down to cool off.
Please let me explain, as I was drowning my pain, I sort of let go of some of my mucus.
Don't sit there upon your high chair and beg & plead 'how could you do this?'
Yes it does smell salty like the sea.
I'm glad you mentioned that, you see
I used my tears to wipe up the blood--yes, that blood there--no, its not my blood.
I swear it's not what you think, it was the pen,
He started spitting up ink.
It's wrinkled, I know, my fists were clenched while writing it.
Oh and this thing here? (cough)
That's just my left thumbnail, I was unconsciously biting it,
it must have fallen off.
david badgerow Nov 2011
i found a napkin
with this number
on it
in my jacket pocket
it reads 10pm and
a badly scribbled heart



why is my underwear the only thing that i am wearing that smells like *****?
david badgerow Jul 2012
my time is now.
dancing at midnight
full of whiskey and jazz
in a flickering subway station
with scuffed feet and smudged cheeks
and when the next train passes
i become a deadly blur.

my time is now.
riding my little cousin's bike
through downtown midnight streets
screaming jazz and eating smog
like it's my last sacred meal
and crying actual tears
from my hollowed-out eyes
for the lonely and beaten-down
trumpet players of jerusalem.

my time is now.
there are words in my bones
and i'm drilling into flesh
with a typewriter's hammer
and only a vague sense of direction
and no love of money
pockets empty and my head
is full of swinging jazz
and milky clouds
and smiling women.
david badgerow Dec 2011
im too tired to drive now
jesus take the wheel
i will sleep for days
curled up in a ball in the backseat
of my own car
im too drunk to drive now
jesus take the wheel
my face is numb from the *******
my teeth are clenched into a smile
life gave me lemons today,
or i found a bag of citric acid
and i squirrelled it away in my eyes
jesus crawled out of a hole in the ground
and i nailed him to his place in the sky
he will bleed onto my palate
and i will be cleansed by
his desperate sweat.
david badgerow Jan 2012
today is ****** monday
there's one knocking on
my front door
he is scribbled and bleeding
from his forearms,
he carries a pigeon on a leash
and gets high on hotrod drivers' eyes.
i'll give him two pints of hillbilly sugar
and a book of voodoo pictures,
but he insists upon my daughter
and at least 3 lines of coke.
instead i hand him a corn on the cob
and the number of the girl scout troop up the road,
he asks me for one more moose head and although
i'm almost out, the sun is still yellow
so i pour him a double brandy
because
today is ****** monday
there's one
driving naked down
a one way street
david badgerow Jul 2012
my grandfather
taught me to
keep my words
like a woman's skirt;
long enough to
cover the good parts,
short enough to
keep things interesting.
david badgerow Jan 2012
volcano the rat popped out of the sewer and ran down the road gnawing on a crooked table leg. the pin up girls have been crying in the chapel over strange men with belly problems. it is very early and the sky is still a black mongrel rolled in waves of silence. i was king midas for forty minutes in a dream last night, i held a crazy unspeakable microphone and i slapped myself in the face. buy me a soapbox just like jesus had, hang posters of houdini and exist in silence. i have the mad pulse of a child, a rosy cheeked poet am i. last night i secretly tried to chop down the church steeple, "down with enthusiasm."
david badgerow Nov 2011
her kitchenette
smelled like lust
and strawberries
and sweat

her hair
smelled like trust
and coconuts
and summer air

her hands
looked like daisies
and beaches
and starfish in the sand

her lips
tasted like red wine
and marshmellows
and secrets, slowly slipped

her eyes
looked like diamonds
and oceans
and wide open skies

her love
felt like pennies
and apples
and a beautiful white dove
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