Bottom line, you get me off
Fall short of that,
You are useless,
Useless.

“Men are so needy,” she said
I swirl spoon in watery broth
Sit speechless
Silently wonder what she meant

The deal is,
I don’t understand the deal
When did *** become
So terribly disconnected from love?

Friends first, then ***
What is wrong with me?
Ok, *** first, then friends?
I don’t understand the deal.

Please be my friend

Heaven won't

be full of people
who simply


avoided hell.

eight, nine
nine, eight, nine
Hello, father, spare me a dime,
and pay the mime with
five landmines;
******* the bridge if
we've got time.

Appalachian Yeti-man:
set fire to the trashcan.
Call me hobo-stan,
and if the beard fits
grow it.

Show it;
show me the D.
Dentistry,
stay with me;
Explain for free:
"Dichotomy
of the mind"
thoughtfully,
for a time.

Robot-o me,
Mr. Oregato.
Set phasers to ****
stunningly.
Make fun of he
for bad grammar
and intellectuality.
He dumber;
me smarter.
She's aderall;
I'm martyr.

Destroy my innards,
Captain.
I need them not.
She leaves me rot,
and he feeds me Scott.

Scottie doesn't know
that Fiona and me
eat him in a van while
he's sleeping.
Cannibal,
call me Hannibal,
and she's the Jane to my
Tarzan,
pulling the fruits of
my loom.

the moon told me a secret
about a night
years ago
when you were still a kid that wore sneakers
and let the grass paint your knees
he told me about the night
when your tin can phone didn't work
when there must have been too many green beans
stuck inside
because no one came when you called
the moon told me summers later
when your bike's tire went flat
going over the train tracks
and you had to walk the whole south block
to find your dog dead at home.
the moon told me how you learned to be alone
but that you never learned to like it,
he told me of the time that you woke in the night
and ran into the lake while you cried
because the dreams you loved always vanished
the moon told me stories from all the years before i met you,
all the times i wish i was around for you.
time is one of two enemies
and clock hands only turn one way
but i never want you to forget
that as long as i live, and maybe sometime after,
i will be on the other end of your tin can phone,
and you can tell me your dreams before memory fails
and i'll walk all eleven blocks with you,
i'll dry your clothes stained with lake water
i'll eat the crust of your sandwich
and finish stories when your eyes grow tired,
we'll learn how not to be alone together
and i hope that we like it.