#ikea
my boyfriend blocks me for four days
because I won’t give him the chair he wants.
I’m left scrolling through IKEA listings,
pretending the algorithm knows my waiting.
outside, neighbors drag out plastic stools
for another birthday party. balloons
tied to the wrong wrist, a dog howling
like it knows who gets the last seat.
on day three, I start naming the chairs
in my apartment: recliner as prophet,
barstool as witness. I kneel before
the ottoman, bargaining like a priest.
when he unblocks me, it feels
less like forgiveness, more like return policy:
no receipt, box dented, parts missing.
we drag it inside together, silent, already exhausted.
what I wanted to say was:
I would’ve sat on the floor
if it meant staying.
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 11:52 AM UTC
my father is telling me last night he dreamt he was telling the neighbours to install a shining privacy screen. my mother is telling me she dreamt about doing her taxes. “hand over your documents” the man said. she’s telling me how it was a different man, and how he really should have already had their documents, and i’m just sitting here thinking ‘if my dreams ever get this boring, please shoot me’. i don’t want domestic fantasies. i am not my father. my father’s only son is the house we live in. i am not allowed to touch the walls. i am not my mother. i do not care if my surfaces shine or not. i am not my parents. i do not want a government job. i do not want a sterile house. i don’t like ikea furniture. i still have dreams about zombies and my friends and war the ocean and i never want that to go away.
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 8:32 PM UTC
Not sure where the family
behind us is from
but they are reciting scripture
in the mess hall cafeteria.
This lingon berry soda is almost finished and my patience is almost finish and I don’t know if I can handle what lies ahead of me and my satire stature.
It’s like I forgot how to write;
forgot how to type;
forgot how to spell and tell if I was right. It’s like I’m a meatball
floating off the plate
about to plummet
on the cold, hard ground.
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 4:50 PM UTC
Life is like Ikea,
Feels like it will never end,
But when it does,
It is too late.
A labyrinth you enter,
Beds and pillows guide the way,
Seems so cynical and perfect,
Still the hassle lies within.
It begins as an endless curiosity,
Soon trivially you follow the lines,
The excitement slowly fades,
It just has to be done.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
I went to Ikea
I bought a farm kitchen sink
I went to Ikea
quick trip, least, that's what you'd think
I went to Ikea
paid, and tried to leave
to collect my property
my kitchen sink, retrieve
I tried to leave Ikea
I followed paths and signs
I tried to leave Ikea
but, I up, and lost my mind
I tried to leave Ikea
but no exit could I find
I wandered there for days
employees, deaf, dumb, and blind
I finally left Ikea
I chanced upon the door
I finally left Ikea
I don't go there, anymore
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 8:20 AM UTC
Pages sit atop
Shelves that bear their weight with fear.
A lone ***** looks on.
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
My muse had a good idea,
Let's flood the world with Ikea!
Dysfunctional kits, there and here.
For guns and bombs here
No one would care.
They would be assembling Ikea,
Each kit, four missing bits,
Wrong pictures to give them the blip,
Globally occupied with dysfunctional Ikea,
Now isn't this a good idea?
Peace on Earth brought by Ikea.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
So, this is death by Bunnings,
This is so not funny,
So much for a store of hardware,
Then it's on to death by Ikea,
What am I doing here?
This is true fear,
Esoteric death by Ikea,
I've got absolutely no idea,
I've come home with a kit,
Comprised of a zillion bits,
Some of it's missing, it's
Giving me the blip,
How to assemble this?
Who even gives a blip?
Yes, it's death by Ikea,
A barrel of laughs here.
What bit goes here?
Doesn't even look near,
So not funny, non dears,
Total angst of Ikea,
Yes, esoteric death by Ikea.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
We go to Ikea having taken
the road through the allotments
& the Park which dates back
to Victorian times.
Inside the store
we grab at rugs & bowls
lie on the beds
until someone frowns
at us & we leave to
sit in the restaurant
with Swedish apple cake
& coffee, reminiscing
of the road we used to take
on the M48 bus to the store
which was near Spandau
one of the earliest settlements of Berlin
where the first Slavs
settled & lived
& how we had
back then a family card
to give us free coffee
before it all fell apart
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC