"taco" poems
As a bisexual, I fear
Few will want you to be proud.
They will bend your ear
Saying things to you out loud
That would be better left
Totally, embarrassingly unsaid
Instead of rattling around
Inside the cathedral of your head.
Too many try to make it
Seem like a kind of venal crime
To want to make love with
Someone of your own kind
And maybe with the same
Gender with which you were born.
To some it is very biblical
And subjects you to public scorn.
Finding someone ****
With the same plumbing as you
It not only delightful
It can be a dream come true.
It feels correctly natural
And works like the other way
Even though people scorn
And use words like *** and ‘gay’
Or ****** and even taco
Whatever that might end up meaning.
The important thing to me
Bisexuality is so powerfully appealing.
So, those who dislike me
And feel so righteously zealous
That bisexuality is wrong
Are very possibly just jealous.
Or maybe just uptight
Living by someone’s else’s rules;
Not what they’ve learned
And therefore are bigoted fools.
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC
Taco Bell, my love,
You fill the void in my soul.
Take all my money.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
* *Like a Marvel of the Phoenix
All ends with begin-nings
What keeps the Force spinning (uh)
X-Force is beginning...*
*We have let go...and feel-ing Mex-i-co
Let's raise the Bell, serving tacos, escape
this Hell?* *
* *"She's up and hungry for fun,
I'm up all night to eat some
She's up all night so let's run
We're up all night to eat tacos...* *
* *We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...* *
* *"We eat ta-cos 'til there's sun
Stayed up all night to eat one
Got hungry, -and made 'Ah' run
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...* *
* *Taco Bell, it sets no hours...
...and it's raining, -taco showers?
What is this I'm feeling?
Seeing tacos on my ceiling?* *
* *We've come too far to give up who we are
So…
* *"We eat ta-cos 'til there's sun
Stayed up all night to eat one
Got hungry, -and made 'Ah' run
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...* *
* ...Taco Bell allow guns inside? *
* *"We eat ta-cos 'til there's sun
Stayed up all night to eat one
Got hungry, -and made 'Ah' run
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...* *
* *"We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
I'm up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos...
We're up all night to eat tacos....* *
*...Taco Bell allow guns inside?
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
If you haven’t noticed this town is a very small place,
And it makes me wonder about the type of people that live here.
Now there is diversity of origin with every kind of race,
But there’s a type of race that is starting to disappear.
That race is an economic one called the working class,
It is heavily getting replaced by what we normal folk call the wealthy.
These people drive their shiny Mercedes like their whole life was a free pass,
And they flaunt their money around to the point where it’s unhealthy.
They buy their cookie cutter mansions up like they’re buying Taco Bell,
Spending a million dollars on a house for four surely isn’t ridiculous.
And maybe it wouldn’t be if the other 99% of America could do it as well,
But we have a lack of money that makes us a bit more meticulous.
We aren’t able to buy a new house or a new car just because we want to,
And we sure as hell can’t afford a Porsche or a Corvette.
Unlike you we have our sad little low paying jobs to do,
Yes, I’m totally sure sitting in your office chair really makes you break a sweat.
But the worst part of it all is these rich people will have a daughter or a son!
And they’re gonna grow up to be just like their mother and father.
It’ll be like watching a reality tv show rerun,
They’ll be wasting the same money and being the same bother.
My children will be working just to buy enough gas for their car,
While these kids will ask mommy or daddy for a new watch or phone.
But I guarantee you the working class kids will go twice as far,
As the little rich kids who will grow up always expecting a loan.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
I was making a burrito when
I dropped the tortilla into the fryer
looks like I'm eating tostadas instead...
I was making a tostada when
The tortilla folded over inside the fryer
looks like I'm eating tacos instead...
I was making a taco when
the edges of my overside tortilla folded up in the small fryer
looks like I'm eating a taco salad instead...
I was making a taco salad when
the shell was dropped and shattered upon the counter
looks like I'm eating nachos instead...
I was making some nachos when
I ran out of chips, so I grabbed a tortilla
looks like I'm eating a burrito instead...
Sep 4, 2011
Sep 4, 2011 at 3:15 PM UTC
Man do I love taco's
Asian taco's
Hispanic taco's
Creole taco's
Russian taco's
Middle Eastern taco's
Persian taco's
Caucasian taco's
Latin taco's
Endless amounts of taco's to eat
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 5:48 PM UTC
hotels are casually destroying the enviornment
i love the feeling i get when
you accept that i'm
getting closer to you
I have so much to do but
let's get taco bell and
play minecraft all day
we can build a quiet town
while the world around ours
falls apart
snuggle baby, comfy love
baby talk, my sweet bliss
rotting me from the inside out, emotional decay
just one more
******* day i cannot handle
looking at your face
and i'm gone forever
I spend most nights suffering
but failing miserably
at relationships
babe if you only ******* knew
you were the closest thing to a soulmate
but the furthest away from true love
i still bang my head against the wall
I cover my ears and scream
when I can't handle the sound of this world's destruction
it's all louder and more apparent
without the saftey you granted me
you're probably happy as i'm being
tortured and devoured my soul
**** out and thrown away into a pit of
******* useless torment corprate casual slave hell but
we all die alone and that's what matters most so who rly cares
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
i.
She's beautiful. She's an angel. She's everything we asked for. I cried for the hopes and dreams of a future that was never mine. I didn't know any better, so I kept crying.
xiv.
*You can't run around like before anymore. Don't get your knees ***** Elbows off the table. Grow up.* I brushed my hands of the dirt and picked myself up, because ladies weren't supposed to pick earthworms out of the grass. I picked up eyeliner instead.
xvi.
I'm trusting you. Don't get into trouble. Don't do anything dumb. There's something satisfying about hearing the roar of an engine at the start of a July evening. With the wind in your hair, freedom at your finger tips, I could have done anything. But I shut off the car and went inside.
xviii.
You're grown up now. You're an adult. You can't afford to make stupid mistakes anymore. I was composed of keg stands, one night stands, roommates, 2am Taco Bell runs, first dates, caffeine, prayers, tears, insecurities, heart to heart talks, "just try it, it's fun, I swear", friends that turn into bridesmaids, broken promises and broken hearts. I can still hear the train's whistle.
xxi.
I told you not to do anything dumb. I told you not to make stupid mistakes. I don't know what to tell you anymore. Here's a standing ovation to being immortal; hats off to the teary drunken nights and the existential crises. These are the days that we'll look back and wish we never wasted and I'll wonder why I let you wipe your muddy shoes on me.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
Goth Child nursed his mother's tattooed *****
Snapped **** with teeth
Then grizzled grin at me and spit up
I poked at my chile relleno
Twisting hot cheesy sludge off prongs
Tour jete with fork finishes in arabesque
Between my own fangs
I spit back scalding ****
Goth Child points, says, "Pawpee, that man is scarewee"
Pawpee turns his tattoo tears to see
Flashes his gleaming grill
I sink in my seat behind sightline of salsa squeeze bottle
Chattering ivories
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
I am a taco
With meat, lettuce, and sauce
All stuffed within a shell
I am very yummy
All my life I have one goal
And that's to be eaten by a hungry soul
People say I'm very yummy
When I'm being digested in their tummy
You can get me regular or supreme
You can even add a bit of sour cream
You can get me at Del Taco or Taco Bell
I'm a little piece of heaven in a little shell
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
My throat’s all scratched from this screaming I’ve done
My diaphragm is all rubbery from these animal calls
But I carry on until you answer my distresses
O Captain, o Captain! Take me away from these generic hoes
I’m too swag for this ghetto
These ******* be hatin’ but you were always mine for the takin’
So take me now—like I did you…
Please. We’re friends. We’ve partied together and cried together.
I even bought you taco bell.
Take me away on your disco stick because
This club can’t handle me and my electric *** pants
What good is your love when just our chakras touch…
I need your grasp, I need your smell…and your **** dramatic stare
Captain, my Captain, you may not be fly like Kanye
And I may not be glam like Beyoncé,
But this club can’t handle us right now
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
"You're Mexican?! You don't look Mexican?"
"What's Mexican supposed to look like?"
"Oh, you know... Sombrero, a curly twirly mustache, maybe like holding a taco!"
"I am eating a taco."
"No, like a real taco.
One that is like made in Mexico,
with like Mexican beans,
and Mexican ladies.
You know what I mean."
"No, I don't."
"What's it like? Did you have a quinceanera thingy? Do you speak Spanish?"
"No and no."
"What?! Then you like aren't a real Mexican. All Mexicans can habla Espanol."
"Oh, you know what. I forgot. I know what it is."
"What?"
"I'm not just Mexican, I'm German too."
"That makes like total sense. No wonder you can't speak Spanish. But wait, like were your family Nazis?"
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 11:34 AM UTC
I wish I was a taco with no mind at all
living on a plate with a window on the wall
I would be on a table just behind the door
Minding my own business not caring anymore.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
I frequent a little taco stand
Every time that I'm out west
With Elvis behind the counter
Dressed in his leathers best
Janice Joplin doing dishes
With Southern Comfort breath
Arguing with fry cook Jim Morrison
Over the best way of cheating death
Jimi Hendrix works the tables
That they have set up out front
Recommending the mushroom taco
With the psychedelic crunch
Marilyn Monroe...the entertainment
Nightly serenades the gents
While wearing here favorite T-shirt
Bobby Kennedy for president
I highly recommend the little taco stand
If you ever find yourself out West
Who's going to show up to take your order that day
Could be anybody's guess
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 7:51 AM UTC
Well...first I'd probably pay off all my student loans
And with the rest of the $10, i don't know.....
Chipotle or taco bell maybe?
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
Sweeping past the lineroom yards
With a long hand held broomstick
Malayandi was a daily sight,
A hard and indelible insight
His quiet mouth a taco
Betel leaf and tobacco
The sweet red rose scent
Animate his hands to accent
Rhythms in the dirt puddle
strokes of savage broom
Frolic along sewage groom
Gargle alongside marbles
Rake up ripple giggles
Babbling bubbles fling
Driving mild stink flakes
To spread morning
Knit into a dead neat serenity.
On festival seasons vacations
Instead of grooming the vassal
comes blooming with big vessels
Collects cooked food in measures
From each and every homestead
People pour in quiet leisure
Rice in a *** of metal
Curry in another kettle
Filled with reverence and pleasure
His heart is brimming sure
All different kitchen meals
In a single container appeals
All children of the same ranch
With many a range
of community
A bonehomie of unity
The children heard
from their friend his daughter
They'd preserved
All those food in cold water
And all the while
They'd eat from it too
This collected meal
for a week or two
This made the children to
look up at them
With same respect due to
a national anthem
Are they more advanced?
With knowledge enhanced
In matters of life and cleanliness?
Malayandi was unaware
That his humble duty covered
Sweeping as well grooming
The children's hearts
With arts of rare sensibility.
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 2:52 PM UTC
My cousin came to my house
And stayed after Thanksgiving
I thought that Thanksgiving food was enough
Boy, was I wrong.
He woke me up at noon
At noon.
Didn’t he know I had to sleep off the Thanksgiving meal?
And he said
As if I should have known.
Could you get me the cheeseburger pizza salad slice?
I replied, From where?
Who would have such a concoction?
But I knew him.
He would be the type
To ask for a cheesy gordita crunch taco from Burger King
And look at their confusion with his own puzzlement.
Then when they told him, we don’t serve that.
He would reply, It’s okay, I have the recipe
I can tell you how it is made.
So I get up and put on my coat.
And gloves.
Because I don’t want grease all over me
And start to walk.
And just my luck
The first snow of the season starts.
Not heavy enough for me to turn back
Just enough snow to turn it into an experience
That made me wish I would have slept upstairs
In the closet
So my cousin could not find me.
Its like the Making the Band 2 show
When Puff Daddy tells them
That he wants cheesecake in a different borough.
So I guess my cousin’s Puffy now.
He said he was into producing….
I get to the pizza place
And tell them what my cousin wants
But it took me three tries to get it all out.
They said, I’m sorry, but we don’t have the cheeseburger pizza salad slice
But we have the chicken pizza salad slice
I said Good enough
I’m sure my cousin would be happy
I would regret those words
I brought the pizza home.
And told him that I got it.
He seemed happy
Until he saw that the meat was chicken
Not cow.
He asked me
Had the audacity to ask
Couldn’t they remove the chicken
And put hamburger meat?
I tried to tell him, That is not how it works
They don’t respect your recipes
They have their own
What is the difference?
He then pointed at the pizza and said
Chicken goes on burgers
It does not go on pizza!
I was stunned into silence
By that logic
I don’t know how cheeseburger and pizza go together.
I told him I would eat it for lunch
So at least one of us was satisfied.
The other had his own ideas
But couldn’t find a store to cook them.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
I eat tacos
I watch a yellowed tree
A leaf falls to the bottom
Like a taco falls into my stomach
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
the gallon of arizona green tea that you only drank a fraction of.
the salt and pepper potato chips you meant to eat, but only did so in the dream i had last night.
the unmade bed that was still unmade when you flew back home, the one i still cannot bring myself to make.
the dyed green hairs i keep finding around the house.
the way you always pronounced 'mosquito' as 'mosk-it-toe' on purpose, and how you pronounced my cat's name 'sullumun' instead of 'solomon' on accident.
the partially closed closet door from the morning i drove you to the airport.
the faint smell of your sweat on my pillow left because of your hyperhidrosis.
the flannel you wore and the longsleeve shirt you doused in your aftershave, that is three sizes too big for me to realistically wear.
the empty taco bell cups in my car from your fourth day here.
the empty shopping bags from our impromptu mall trip.
the polaroids you really wanted to keep, but we couldn't find when you packed.
the pieces of you that you never meant for me to keep that i keep piecing together as though, like an alchemist, i could make you appear again though i cannot, and you are not here, you are gone.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
There were two boys
Who were eatting tacos
One said
"I can eat more tacos than you"
The other said
"You wish"
And there it stat
They kept eatting
And eatting
Until their stomachs hurt
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
on the green
hole 8, and five over par
southern california sunshine numb
leaning on a putting iron
leaning on a fistful of xanax
i had given up on the game a long time ago
just didn't know it yet
my friend was strung out on speed and coke
"breakfast of champions", he said
he had been aimlessly whacking the ball for the last hour
"fifty bucks to whoever hits Brian Wilson" he suddenly yelled!
sure enough, there was Brian Wilson,
standing by the mexican food-truck,
waiting for a taco or burrito or God knows what
i felt xanax confident
so i walked over and shook his hand
i told him thank you,
and that his music probably saved my life
"probably" he asked?
"yes" i said, and walked away
i told my friend to take some xanax and chill out
"xanax is just xanax spelled backwards" he said
and i could not argue with that
we never finished that round of golf,
but somehow i still feel like i won
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 11:34 PM UTC
I wrote this poem just for you
With my mind racing and my heart beating
Among amorous feelings and thoughts of you
My love for you is and always will be true
You are my eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
You are the one I can never leave behind
When I first met you I knew it was a sign
You are so implausibly beautiful to my eyes
You deserve the world's grandest jewels
Emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, amethysts
And anything else that money can buy
When we met each other some time ago
From the first time we said 'Hello'
I knew you’d be the one
To bestow my life with love and fun
My words forever fail to express
What I felt when you said ‘Yes’
To a Taco Bell hot sauce packet
That said ‘Will You Marry Me?’
And when I held you near
On the coldest day of the year
When we both said ‘I Do’
And you became my wife
I knew that our love was true
That we’d always be together
To see this movie we call life
All the way thru
We’ve had our ups and downs
But eternal bliss is where we’re bound
Together in each other’s embrace
Everything we long for will come around
You are the only thing I need
I’d sell my words, my talents, and me
If you’d agree to proceed
To be mine everlasting
And never sever our affection
And always retain
This one piece of information:
No matter what comes our way
I will always love you
Each and every day
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 9:22 AM UTC
oh my god
i am so sorry
it's just that my battery died and i drove around for hours looking for your new second floor apartment
i am sticking my fingers down my throat and i’m gagging until these god **** butterflies find their way out of my cavernous stomach
you aren’t allowed to laugh when i walk through your door with cold taco bell and red cheeks because i’m nervous
you've never seen this freckle before, you don't know my new favorite song
you rest your arms on my legs and move closer to me and we both scream because we’re gonna puke, butterflies
i ask you for a glass of water and you should ask me to leave
trembling, you don’t even use a coaster
i take a sip and stare at the tupperware on the floor, i taste dishwasher soap and it is almost enough to scare these butterflies who used to remain dormant right out of my ******* gut
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 8:16 PM UTC
I frequent a little taco stand
Every time I'm out in the Mid-West
With Elvis behind the counter
Dressed in his leather best
Janice Joplin doing the dishes
With enchilada breath
Arguing with the fry cook Jim Morrison
Over the best way of cheating death
Jimi Hendrix works the tables
That they have set up out front
Recommending the mushroom taco
With the psychedelic crunch
Marilyn Monroe...the entertainment
Nightly serenades the gents
Wearing her favorite T-shirt
Bobby Kennedy for president
I highly recommend the little taco stand
If you ever find yourself out West
Who's going to show up to take your order that day
Could be anybody's guess...
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC