Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
I will not go into Kmart now,
Because you work there,

I want to go to Kmart,
And be an ******* to you,
like you were to me,

I will not go into Kmart,
Because you work there,

Maybe I should go to Kmart,
And maybe I should Get a job there too!

I will not go in Kmart,
Because you work there,

Maybe I'll go with my new boy,
and he doesn't beat me like someone did,

I will go in Kmart,
Because YOU work there now.

I'll make out with my new boy,
While you watch and check our order out.
i handle my PTSD triggers well. I was going to go apply for a job, found out this **** head was working there, so now i cant apply there. I will have a PTSD attack if i see this boy. soo great x.x
Randy Johnson Jun 2017
The Kmart has closed that was located in Morristown, Tennessee.
That's one less place where people can shop and that includes me.
This particular Kmart was built in 1974.
After being in business for 43 years, they closed their doors.
They were in business for over four decades, that's a long time to be around.
This makes five department stores in Morristown that have been shut down.
I had shopped at Kmart since I was a child but I can't shop there anymore.
It's a shame that they had to call it quits, it's sad that they closed their store.
THE SNOW FELL LIKE IVORY SNOW SOAP FLAKES on Kate & Jake as they made passionately-**** love behind an abandoned Kmart. "I wish Kmart were fiscally sound again," Kate mumbled after Jake touched bottom. "Easy," Jake warned, "Kmart's downward spiral began with 2 desperate lovers hitting their gynecological bottom while snow fell like Ivory Snow soap flakes on their passionately-**** bodies." Kate smiled at that, pleased that Jake's passionate concern for Kmart sizzled like red-hot tangerines in the belly of his soul.
(1) I bought a toupΓ©e at Kmart and almost died. (2) Kmart sold me
into Arab servitude. (3) I begged a woman at Kmart to give me a rim job and she almost killed me.
jonchius Sep 2015
resuming vogon poetry
altering website logos
pretending everyone cares
playing "east hastings"
asphyxiating well-nigh denouement
depicting twitter status
obfuscating coincident deletions

translating from SαΈ΅wxΜ±wΓΊ7mesh
assuring SαΈ΅wxΜ±wΓΊ7mesh exists
painting skwiαΈ΅w's mother?
decrying micropolitical maelstrom
imbibing fireball fountain
inundating lexical foofaraw

crafting poetic wonders
desiring other mediums
remaining practically invisible
ending internet-only depression

drafting noetic blunders
requesting astute clique
blazing perilous trail
aging ominous grisaille

depicting kmart realism
seeking darker groups
increasing pre-weekend laughter
appropriating communist symbols

making lone chuckle
offending worldwide communists
colonizing hello poetry
colonizing parallel universe

relaxing e-migration policies
ΠΏΠΈΡ‚ΡŒ Ρ‡ΠΈΡΡ‚ΡƒΡŽ Π²ΠΎΠ΄ΠΊΡƒ
photographing abduction scene
ΒΏlosing consistent format?

increasing bluebird insignia
avoiding frivolous legalities
striking astraphobic comments
assuming near-universal automation

lowering latent inhibition
traversing oneiric plane
laxwadding afebrile loodies
wallscaping pitchsourced chthonicities
closing one-star conveniences
sharing alien-looking alphabet
writing system downtimes
first week of September 2015
annette Jan 2018
i am my grandmother’s small and plump tears
when she thinks of her pueblo.
i am my mother’s broken english
as she greets the cashier.
i am my sister’s abandoned dreams,
her acceptance letter is etched into my palm.
i am my brother’s path to citizenship
along with all the photographic evidence.
i am my brother in law’s laughter
when he speaks to the nephew he has never met.
i am the ever constant fear
of being denied a home.
i am the secrets carried on backs
through miles and miles of desert.
i am the pan dulce on sunday mornings.
i am the mole and carnitas at birthday parties.
i am the thick hair on arms.
i am the first bite of a burger king hamburger
after years of poverty.
i am the first item of clothing bought at a kmart
after years of patching up old clothes.

so how dare you think less of me?
you do not know what i carry.
all this pain.
all this joy.
all this strength.

i am chicana.
the bridge between two worlds.
i will not be burned down.
un producto de una familia mexicana que vino a un paΓ­s lejano por un futuro.
Brent Kincaid Nov 2015
Perfect body proportions
Totally magazine hot.
Two percent body fat.
Bone structure of a god.
An hour workout daily
Jogging or the gym.
Specimen of health
Neither fat nor slim.

A high-dollar hairstyle
Nothing out of place.
The finest of products
Moisturizing the face.
Clothes from the proper
Stores with the right names.
Never take a chance on
Discount shopping games.

And, don’t forget the shoes
They have to be just right.
One set of shoes for daytime
And another for the night.
Not just any socks, either.
They must be picked with care.
You can’t be caught with
The wrong socks out somewhere.

Once the apparel is suitable
The grooming done just right
It’s quite all right to be seen
In public, day and night.
Otherwise the right people
Might trigger your worst fears
By thinking you were shopping
At Walmart, Kmart and Sears.
I had a hernia and I could barely call the police on anyone when a neighbor suggested that I go to the boarded-up Kmart to have abdominal surgery. I went, had the surgery, and returned to my tent the next day. I've not ever felt better about the things that infuriated me before the surgery that I had at Kmart, which is abandoned.
yokomolotov Aug 2013
State Fair, Kentucky 2013

by Yoko Molotov and David Willams


It’s time for the State Fair,
today is the last day of summer.

love all the animals. pet all the animals.
cook all the animals. eat all the animals.

inflatable prizes on a stick, slowly deflating,
it’s the childhood's defeat-
they are lying lifeless in the backseat.

guess your
birthday,
weight or age
within 3 days,
20lbs, or 3 years.
junk on tables for looks at-
key rings, magnets and stickers.
Formal complaints.

white people.
Starving ducklings leap and fall
while snotty babies squeal at them.
Obama, I'm a friend of Mitch.
donate 3$ to the GOP.
I fed an estranged Grandpa
roasted pecans.

country people. concrete floors.
legs. legs long and legs glossed.
Thousands of people and two thousands of crocs.
pillars of ivory, blue and dimpled.
sunburn, wife beaters, and university shirts.
(THAT'S IT, I'M TELLING MEMAW, your shirts are beautiful)
beautiful lips
and toothless maws.

half-hearted, half-heated corn dogs and overpriced
beers, I can never finish an ice cream so
I usually leave the cone lying to be
sat in.
Dead bugs in a box and bug puke in my mouth.
A salad made from blue ribbon tobacco and light bulb tomatoes.
everything smells like popcorn, **** and tradition.

Joseph's Dreamcoat worn in some nobody's county.
you're my favorite gingerbread girl.
lover's quarrels are illegal, thanks.
everyone has the right to be miserable, thanks.

bovine pet request,
dumb static and docile eyes, do they ever change?
does any of it really change?
at some point all the cows petted will be digested and shat out.

congested aisles, shoving and trampling,
the mobilized morbidly obese in carts
WWJD?
a fat stone in a brainless trout stream.
the failing pan salesman hawking his wares,
no one in attendance, wearing a headset (a real go-getter)
and holding his pan like a flag.

the really poor families come to the fair
because it's cheap entertainment,
and it's cheap tradition.
and these struggling families
trudge proudly in faded Kmart attire-
an exhibition the pretentious call
"people watching".

separating oneself from the herd of undesirables,
a pasty man
with his head awkwardly on a pillow,
trying to convince an apathetic and bloated crowd
the perfection of his product,
his head a bit like road ****.
he's selling but the
crowd walks on-on-on.


Was there more guano under the bridge or beyond the gates?
Jordan Frances Mar 2014
I'm sorry that you're way too good for me
You're like a New York City boutique
And I might as well be Kmart
You could have anyone
So why would you choose me?
I'm not blonde, I'm not skinny
And I'm no princess at all
Yet, you treat me like one
You are perfect for me
And I'm so wrong for you
I can't help but think
That this is all too good to be true
We are a cliche dream
A fairytale in the making
If I am Cinderella
I hope the clock stays at 11:59
Forever.
would not be worth anything
People would die
many would cry

A world without Kmart would cause starvation
in the U.S. nation
Mike Bergeron Sep 2012
Sitting at a bar
In a palace built by
Nineteenth-century slaves,
And the back of my shirt
Is soaked from the
Hundred degree weather.
I rub my neck,
Wipe the hot perspiration
From it with my hand,
Only to pick up
My glass of beer
And get it's cold sweat
All over my palm.
I ask the bartender
About the nets
Obstructing my view
Of the gold-flaked,
Hundred foot ceilings,
But he doesn't know
Why they're there,
Or just doesn't care
Enough to humor me.
Happy hour prices
Segregate me and my soul
From the charcoal
Suits shuffling past
As they head to
The trains that will
Deliver them to
Their BMWs
So they can drive to
Their wine cellars
And plastic wives.
The history of this place
Is suffocating me,
It's thick in the air,
As are the dialects
Of dozens of states,
Shouting to each other
Or to themselves
Or to god.
I pay our tab
And dive into
A red line train
Like a CVS syringe
Into a ******'s arm,
And rush away from
the city's heart
With the other cells,
Through tunnels buried
Beneath the birth and death
Of the American scream.
If I fall asleep,
I'll never wake up,
The dream will replace
The reality I've created.
The steady thrum of
The train croons to me,
But the acidic stench
Of July humanity
Keeps me locked
In this scenario.
The darkness flees
As we breach the
Border of daylight.
Jetskis on the Potomac
Remind me of what
I don't know.
Dreaded beards
On weathered sacks
Of human decay
Perched on plastic seats
Remind me of what
I've painted as real
In my underexposed brain.
I'm exhausted,
All my water has
Evaporated, risen,
And I'm a Little drunk.
My eyelids are heavy,
And move like
Hurricane barriers.
Open:
Same scene,
Different passengers.
Closed:
Spiral staircases
Of neon fibres,
A religious maven
Spitting his canon,
Fleeting images of
Hardwired memories
I've grown old
Trying to erase.
Open:
He's staring right at us.
The man in the
Periwinkle shirt
And the bronze
Kmart tie.
His sweat shines
Like young paint
On an Oldsmobile,
His double chin
Is tanned to
The color of his tie,
And he knows too much.
He knows more than I do,
More than I can take.
His eyes shine
With the knowledge,
The stupid grin
Plastered on his
Greasy face
Knocks me out.
Closed:
The sky is vast,
And unscathed by jealous clouds.
The crystal clear water holds me up,
Its pressure on my back
Is as refreshing as it is comforting.
Max and Andy splash and laugh to my left.
The pond water in my ears
Distorts their sounds,
But the mushrooms in my blood
Explain them.
Jesse is coming,
Doing well at keeping his cigarette dry,
Swimming with one arm.
I feel something unlock inside me,
Forget it's June,
That I'm floating
In this lake
For the first
And last time,
That I'm still
In Rhode Island,
That the love
Of my life
Is in Virginia,
I forget my limbs,
My hair,
My skin,
My ****,
My heartbeat,
The stellar iron in my blood,
And as the water fills my lungs,
As the shouts commence
And sight fades,
I am reborn,
I am the microbes I am swallowing,
I am the glow of the nearest star
Glinting off the rippling surface,
I am the sand beneath me,
I am the air pushing the pine needles,
I am alive,
I am open:
I am still on a train
In Washington DC
And this ******* guy
Knows too much.
His lips are wet with it.
It's written in the part
Of his thinning hair,
In the way he's thumbing
the pages
Of the book he isn't reading.
I can't contain the shout,
The burst of wasted pride,
The "*******!"
The "What do you see that's so ******* interesting?!"
I can feel Ali's hand
And the eyes of
All the passengers in the car
Fall upon me,
And the pressure
Caves in my skull.
From my sunken face:
"I'm a reasonable man, get off my case."
"I'm a reasonable man, get off my case."
"I'm a reasonable man, get off my case."
"I'm a reasonable man, get off my case." -Radiohead
Hi! Would you like to try our prostitutional services today? Sure! How much? A lot! No. I mean, how much does it cost? What? Your prostitutional services?! Sir, this is Kmart! If you want a *******, you'll have to go to McCrory's. Forget it. Fifteen dollars. For what? For a Kmart *******. But you said...NEVER mind what I said! It's fifteen dollars! Okay. I'll take one. One what? One *******. Sir, we don't offer prostitutes for fifteen dollars. Try Sears or Montgomery Wards.
Hi! Would you like to try our prostitutional services today?
Sure! How much? A lot! No. I mean, how much does it cost?
What? Your prostitutional services?! Sir, this is Kmart! If
you want a *******, you'll have to go to McCrory's.
Forget it. Fifteen dollars. For what? For a Kmart *******.
But you said...NEVER mind what I said! It's fifteen dollars!
Okay. I'll take one. One what? One *******. Sir, we don't offer
prostitutes for fifteen dollars. Try Sears or Montgomery Wards.

— The End —