"chex" poems
Coffee and tea at the cafe of Christ
The Bible for breakfast
Slurping stories from ***** and Samuel
To Ezekial and Ezra.
Start your day the holy way with Christ chex.
Ahh. The breakfast of champions
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
I met my neighbor today.
Well, he's not my neighbor yet,
but he will be when I'm forty-two
and have that burgundy four-door.
He'll have two kids by then,
one from a previous marriage;
loud mouth little *****
always reminding his step-mother
that his real mom wouldn't stand for
what she wants to call discipline.
I should really remind his dad to return
my rototiller when I see him next.
-
The meteorologist called for sleet
and I still don't see any ****** sleet.
I walked to the fuel station and got a fountain soda;
I counted six stray cats on the way back.
One of them used to belong to a woman
by the name of Jamila who moved back to Atlanta
in July of last summer.
The cat never liked to come to her,
so it stayed behind to chart star patterns.
Sometimes, when no one is out on the street,
the cats meet in alleyways to gossip
about the state of affairs in the soy city.
-
I buried seven heads-up pennies
underneath the yield sign on Union street
last Wednesday, I believe it was.
I'm still waiting on a reply,
but Mr. Cuttlefish isn't known for his punctuality.
No one is around here;
it's bad for your health if everyone knows where
and when you'll be.
They say one of the neighbor kids
found a piece of amber the size of a plum
in a box of Rice Chex from the corner market.
I knew someone would find it eventually.
-
Every umpteenth sidewalk slab has an "X" engraved
in the top, right-hand corner.
It signifies a meeting zone, and if you wait their long enough
I can probably convince one of the
silver men from the condemned apartment building
to let me borrow their aural symphonizer
so I can finally see what it's like
to extract one while it is still alive and roily.
It wont be too long of a wait,
as the men are always brief with conversation
and always seem to blink and breathe
at the exact same time I do.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 1:54 AM UTC
I was sitting in a chair at church eating chex mix.
I began thinking of what I liked most in it
just because a little, brown wheat square fell to my lap.
"Have to save that one," I said.
"Those are delicious."
Then I started ranking them.
And then I started wondering what part of chex mix you liked most.
Would we be able to share a bag?
Do you hate the rye chips that I love?
If you did, would you pick them out and try to toss them in my mouth, making a game put of cereal and pretzles?
Or maybe you, like most, hate the little breadsticks.
I wonder if you realize that if you truly didn't want them, I would eat them for you.
Cause I wanna share chex mix and also a bed.
I wanna share thoughts and feelings and grapes and ice cream.
I want to bump into your hand when when we reach for popcorn at the same time.
I want us to eat chex mix for breakfast.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
12:45
The sun has gone black,
the world is asleep.
In the family room,
the television clicks on by itself.
It illuminates my father,
half-naked,
covered in processed cheese dust.
The channel changes to Cinemax,
******** ***********
My mother walks in
without her glasses,
and for a moment
her screams of disgust
are indistinguishable
from the throes of passion
broadcast on the cheap
Acer dad bought at Costco.
Elsewhere,
in South America,
a volcano has erupted.
It sprays debris
and detritus
over a small village
with a long name.
Postmodern Vesuvians **** ash,
frozen not with fear
but rigor mortis.
The CNN report plays for three hours.
The world moves on.
Later,
a man explodes in a convenience store.
Guts rocket outward,
onto wine coolers
and travel packages of Chex,
and the clerk just shrugs.
If you go there today,
all that’s left is the smell of ammonia
and a dark stain on the ceiling.
At the same moment,
a toddler steps off a cliff,
spiraling into the abyss,
but never stops falling.
He’s been going for days,
months,
years.
He has kept his audience updated
through a Bluetooth that we tossed down after him.
He’s had windburn since he fell,
but the ointment we sent
hasn’t reached him yet.
His parents are now expecting.
He just yawns.
In my family room,
the woman on Cinemax is climaxing,
screaming,
pulling her hair out
while a greased-up middle aged
pizza deliveryman autoerotically asphyxiates
himself with a hair tie.
As she wails for the last time,
the TV screen shatters,
glass ejected,
blazing through the air
like Flight 93
seconds before impact.
Sparks salivate from the exposed wires,
then cackle down
into a signed black.
And as this happens,
the children on Exeter St
stop crying.
The alcohol in a small town liquor store in Wyoming
un-ferments,
and the world, for a moment,
ceases to turn.
But only for a blink.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 2:02 PM UTC
We Live in FORT KINLEY
that we fit in so thinly
It is a very dark house
And there happens to be a mouse
We sit here night and day
While eating candy, we play
doll house and pick-up-stix
running around eating chex-mix
We Live in Fort Kinley
in which we fit so thinly
Apr 30, 2010
Apr 30, 2010 at 9:40 PM UTC
She caught me cleaning the countertops
in the kitchen,
coffee stains and crumbs of
corn chex
needing removal and
crunchy disposal.
she came unexpected.
off to shower, she had said.
she watched silently,
then wept copiously,
bawling as if it were the first time,
tears and copious were married.
what! what did I do?
you cleaned the countertops,
reminding me why
I love you.
I lent her my paper towel,
for surely she needed it now
more than those countertops.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 10:37 AM UTC
It is 1977, everyone is wearing the stone washed 501's
I haven't felt this way about America for months
Listening to Bowie with the smile on my face
Studying math and history at my own slow pace
The baby is crawling around the floor...
Weeing and cooing at certain moving objects
While the cat is being pet and being fed Chex
However that works, no idea...
He's an unusual cat, I must add...
Because when he got a bird, and it bled onto my plaids
I did not know whether to become enraged or plain sad
I breathe in and out
And stare out the window to stare at the clouds
Berlin looks so nice from here
I spent the whole night smoking Marlboro Lights and drinking my beer
Seeing soccer on my tele, all I can do is cheer
All my bad thoughts and horrible feelings suddenly disappear
Sally is saying she is turning her back on religion
And goes outside to feed the pigeons
She introduced me to ****** on Wednesday
And I shot up all through Thursday
Then Lenny got a job back in May
And because of my drinking problems, my wife decided not to stay
I went to court and now I have custody
My children will never be taken away...
[Note: I wrote this poem hours before listening to Berlin by Lou Reed, which has been called the most depressing album ever, they were right, but it can lose it's effect if you listen to it repeatedly...This poem is inspired by the album and it's elements and themes...]
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 4:47 PM UTC
Kabloom, bang, boom!
Here comes the gloom,
Zoom, tomb, doom.
Someone untangle this lifesize loom.
Jul 25, 2010
Jul 25, 2010 at 9:31 AM UTC
Chex chocolate
somehow manages
the perfect amount of chocolate
and plain chex
I had four bowls in one sitting
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
The first time I saw you cry,
even the flies got wet,
worms scrambled like Israelites
before chariots and damp chaos.
I never knew your aunt,
but maybe this was your first
touch of dying.
You told me she gave you Chex
on the brittle days, cookies
on the soft lazy days,
Spoke Danish and laughed
because the horses knew the ways
and all the sisters were named for flowers.
The rocks tumble into the glade,
and all the flowers wither,
even the flies get pummeled,
and the nightcrawlers
drag the mapleseed down.
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC