When's the last time you had sweets?
Colorful
And cold
And teeth rotting material,

When's the last time you had me?

The actual me,

Because I've known you for years,
And you've never known the real me.
Around you i'm quiet,
I'm kind
I'm never kind
And that isn't me,
I can't even be sarcastic
But I'm always overdramatic.

You're friends,
With the person I no longer am,
Not that you took anytime to get to know me but,


When I start to act
Like my actual self.

If you don't like that person,


You can give up, sugar.

It must have taken you a terribly long time
To plot your mischievous plan that day.
You waited for the perfect moment to commit the crime.
And I daresay,
Your well-executed scheme, taking place in trigonometry
Brought me pain
And sorrow.
Your need for my pencil resembles idolatry.
I may never love the same
Or let another person "borrow"

your words are razor blades
and I have seen you
shaving others
enough to know
I'd never let you be my barber

for if your mind,
the hand that guides them,
were as sharp,
you'd see that Occam's razor
is not a proper tool of art

Oh how glorious war is!
How efficient
And adequate!
The way it entertains the gods
When we shoot fireworks and missiles into the sky
It accustoms young women to waiting
Awards men for slaughtering men
Inspires tyrants to deliver long speeches
Adds pages to history books
Gives politicians something to bet on
Brought tears to Einstein’s eyes
Leaves men scarred for life
Gives poets new themes
Like Bukowski and Cummings
It produces less mouths to feed
Teaches historians that history is always repeating itself
Gives governments something to brag about
Pulverises countries until nothing is left
Accomplishes equality between killer and killed
Keeps the industry of artificial limbs in business
Gives grave diggers a pat on the back
See how glorious war can be?

I checked the mail everyday hungover feeling like **** probably looking just as bad.
The mail clerk always looked at me strangely .
How's the writing going ?

I had made the mistake one time of speaking to her one day.
She saw I was always sending out envelops to different magazines it was a small town what can I say she was a nosey *****.

Well I'm almost making it I replied to her walking out the door.
It must be great seeing your words in print .
I don't know when they are I will tell you what it's like I replied .

I  was standing at the door more than ready to leave get back home mix a drink and start my routine all over again.

She looked puzzled .
You get so many back surely you must get some things published .
There rejections they always are.

Aww come on you haven't even read them yet .
I'm psychic I don't need to read them.

How come you keep sending them out then if you know the result?

Well you see just like women turning me down I seem to never tire of asking besides if I badger them long enough just like a woman in a bar after a few drinks maybe I just might get lucky.

She just looked at me .
Well you have a nice day MR Robbins.

I left made my way home  happy I could make the nosey ***** uncomfortable I never understood peoples need to know everything I loved my privacy I hated social networks there false ******* happiness all on display it was like a store window all fake all ******* mannequins and fake smiles .

It was never reality besides who gave a **** what you had for dinner !

I sat the mail on my desk or on that over crowded thing that I believe once was a desk  .
Mixed a gin and tonic and began the self abuse that was reading rejection letters .

Most were the bland same **** .
Sorry to say no , We have to pass sorry and good  luck .
One was a card not even a rejection slip these people were pros to bad the women didn't hand these out at bars .

Dear sir.

Thank you for buying me drinks all night making crude jokes while staring at my ****.
Sorry to say not if you were the only man on earth and even if there wasn't a battery left in this world for my ******* .

Sincerely
Valarie  .


Now that would at least be good for a laugh I thought .

I got to the last one some little college paper known for there edgy ******* .

Dear MR Robbins  

We are happy to inform you on your recent  submission to us.
We will be publishing your poem.
A Good Day To Feel Slightly Bad .
In next months issue of are paper thank you again and please feel free
to send us more work.

******* I thought to myself.
Now how would I ever face the post ***** again knowing that I was a total fraud as a psychic.

Well either way I was always happy to be wrong.

I mixed another drink I thought about telling friends about my recent success.
Then I thought to myself.
I really didn't feel like making any today .

Cheers .

Gonz .

They call it a Loveseat because it was designed for you to make love on it
We have to re-rate all those G-rated films with Loveseats in them
They imply ****** tension
And we don't want that exposed to our children!
It's the work of the devil!
I demand action on them now!
Can't you see i'm joking?
We're merely close to twenty years of this century
And it's only gotten more ridiculous
The future awaits
For more loveseat incidents
And people up in arms over tedious, pointless things that nobody should care about
But ISIS? That Egypitan babe has been dead for so long! What are you talking about?
There's no way that old darling is still alive?
Terrorism? What's that?
Is that the term they use when they see Loveseats in G movies?