"guac" poems
we each bought
a burrito from
that same van
i would visit back
when i lived there
two pork burritos
one with added
sweet potato
brazenly requested
the other simply
the expected guac
my overconfident request
should have cost more
than I was charged
but the man serving
could not bring himself
to demand the full cost
for "just" a burrito
we sat and ate
on the bank of the river
that i used to
think of as mine
we bit
we chewed
we swallowed
catching up
as napkin-less
salsa-dripping hands
were licked clean
and wiped dry
across the thighs of
already marred jeans
May 20, 2023
May 20, 2023 at 5:57 PM UTC
Does anybody know the time?
Thanks, but a.m. or p.m.?
We sent Romer out for beer
Has anybody here seen him?
He’s got our money and my car
Doesn’t it seem like a long time?
Or am I losing track of things here
And all my reason and rhyme?
Put another song on, guys
I am sick of the Grateful Dead.
I’m thinking it’s all the same song
Running right through my head.
Freakin’ Truckin’ making me crazy.
I like the song but jeez, guys
There must be another one
You can find one if you try.
Does anybody know the time?
Thanks, but a.m. or p.m.?
We sent Romer out for beer
Has anybody heard from him?
He’s got our money and my car
Doesn’t it seem like a long time?
Or am I losing track of things here
And all my reason and rhyme?
It seems like a few hours ago
Just hours of Hotel California;
The Eagles singing loud, us too.
Dancing, nearly getting a hernia.
And didn’t someone say something
About some tacos and some guac?
If I don’t get something to eat soon
I’m going to get up and try to walk.
Does anybody know the time?
Thanks, but a.m. or p.m.?
We sent Romer out for beer
Has anybody heard from him?
He’s got our money and my car
Doesn’t it seem like a long time?
Or am I losing track of things here
And all my reason and rhyme?
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 5:57 AM UTC
Topolobampo, Xoco, Xoco River North,
Frontera Grill, Frontera Fresco, Fonda Frontera,
Tortas Frontera, Frontera Cocina,
Lena Brava, Cruz Blanca,
Red O.
PBS specials, Michelin stars and public cooking demos
be ******
that's too many, right?
Load up your guac with all the pork belly and pepitas
you want.
Star in a self-indulgent Lookingglass Theatre play.
Soak up the accolades of being a culinary genius
more than a Jalisco-style slow-braised goat
sits in its own juices.
But hey man, come on,
give us a break.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 3:07 AM UTC
Best enjoyed
listening to the B-side of Tom Wait’s
Heart Attack and Vine
The needle pierces the old dusty vinyl; cue anticipation.
An amalgamation of artificial nostalgia and the feeling like
someone carved a six-inch valley in the middle of your skull.
A Gravelgarglingchainsmokeingdevil (God when he’s drunk)
spilling guts at thirty-three revolutions per minute.
And with each screaming note there is not violence, but the
sensational. Tell me about jersey girls and china white.
All I want to do is ride upfront. Light cigarette off of cigarette
and fail in attempts to pronounce the place names (shu•be•na•
cadie, Ko•uchi•bou•guac (when I was a kid I though it was Capital A)).
Maybe real music is found within silhouettes of silence. Standing
on the marsh flats gazing up at the abyss. The stars reign down
over the tide that is coming in the bay and the ice,
cracks and echoes with a natural reverb. I think
I am creature driven and derided by vanity.
Or maybe its just time to flip the record.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
Last night - no, wait, this morning - I swore I heard thunder and I wondered where I was for a moment, as I had never slept through wind and rain in this place, and in fact, there are many things I have not done in this place but would like to do, and maybe I won’t get through all of those things in my first year, but I’d like to check some things off my list, you know, stay out all night, be able to say I stayed sober, sleep in all morning, watch all nine seasons of Criminal Minds on Netflix (bless), wonder if he likes me too, know he likes me too, try sushi again since I just tried guac again and ended up loving it, try loving again and maybe end up feeling okay after, not used or tattered or torn, not in the way some people do of course, but really only just scratched up, or maybe I’m shattered, who’s to say how broken someone is, and more importantly, who’s to say they can’t be fixed, and maybe I’m already on the mend, away from many of the things that pulled me down, left me floating in the ocean (i’ve always been afraid since The Fish Incident), just the front of my face above water, struggling for air, a fine line of salty water creating a border between skin and ocean, and who knows where this is even going or what I’ll draw from it but I love the possibility that even a few words could form something great, in the same way I love the possibilities here, because last night while my roommate was sleeping I realized that one day my work may be on a bookshelf - should they still exist come the publication of my novel - and my dreams could very well come true, quite soon, with just a little help from the people and places i’ve been waiting so long to discover, and another thing, another realization: it is possible that my future husband is somewhere on campus, oh my, how mind boggling, do people even say mind boggling, probably not, I don’t usually but then again I don’t usually do this and look where that’s gotten me, but in all seriousness, I know people joke about finding it difficult to believe someone would want to marry them, allow you to share their last name, have a family with you, genuinely want to spend the rest of their life with you, but that really is a problem for me, because I’m strange, but not in the way you’d think, or maybe in the way you think, I don’t know how you think, after all.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 11:49 PM UTC
Ice cream sandwiches require refrigeration
Toads on frogs is a swamp violation
I cry out when I peel potatoes
Because they dont wanna be in my moms famous guac
I shout at sand for getting so heated
Ender Dragon eggs cannot be beaten
The size of spiders is all in your head
They're already so ****** about a botched interview
They can't feed their spider babies and mama spider will bite
This just goes to show
You shouldn't take loans from empathetic toasters
The results will surely shock you
I feel bad when I tear down my posters
Their eyes swell with disappointment
I've gotta bounce to my doctors appointment
They say it's all in my head but to me its all I can see
I shout at sand for getting so heated
Ender Dragon eggs cannot be beaten
The size of spiders is all in your head
They're already so ****** about a botched interview
I get sad cuz I lack the permits
To allow beavers to build dams for hermits
Their invasive but so friendly
I feel bad when I eat beans
The results silent but deadly
I will ski by any means
As long as babies go goo goo
My brain glues me to the lou
Because I lose my signal if I move
I must continue my crusade to leave my mark on this bathroom stall
So all will know that someone doesn't care for the outcomes of authorities
Overwhelmed by the silent majority
Activate the rings
Activate the rings
Master Chef must Activate the onion rings
Activate the rings
Activate the rings
Master chef must activate the onion rings
I get sad cuz I lack the permits
To allow beavers to build dams for hermits
Their invasive but so friendly
I feel bad when I eat beans
The results silent but deadly
I will ski by any means
As long as babies go goo goo
Ice cream sandwiches require refrigeration
Toads on frogs is a swamp violation
I cry out when I peel potatoes
Because they dont wanna be in my moms famous guac
The barbecue is great but I lack potatoes
They may be present but their hearts lie vacant
I regret leaving behind my Lucky costers
Their presence was the essence to a good drink
All my cars are clichè like protestors on cake
I'm so lost but my bros are the link
My favorite position is shutes and ladders
Shut the **** up lizard man you wanna bake?
What is real
What is wrong
I cant feel my chest when I play ping long
I'm so stupid but youre a ****** ding ****
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 3:35 AM UTC
We are.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCXC)
Rye toast, eggs, bacon, naught else for intents
Save guac for me, and raspb'rry jam t'avail
Him, breakfast fairly light, it's that detail
Of bacon and the cats which begs defense,
Since they did steal his brie(where I'd sans sense
Left it out with his cuppa tea sans bail
To showr) and he was not too happy, they'll
Be scanted as I covered his food. Whence?
They won't touch mine. So he must as it were
Give me dear Peter's sob tale til I rue
What? Eat but half my bacon, then give her
None, just to Peter. He then gives his too,
And gives his other slice to Tigger. Poor
As nary bacon, LORD, how I thank You.
29Aug25b
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 11:53 PM UTC