mmcmxciv

Venetian or Tunisian?

I am such an idiot!
I don’t know why I forgot
That I am not a Cypriot.

mmcmxciii

Happy Snippets
(that survived the
general uproar)

“I was eating but I just got your message
should we say goodnight soon?”


          “[worried, to himself] well, this definitely
          could be defined as hunger.  
          ...
          I no make sentence pansied in proper pan skillet.”

“Oh, hey, which skillet?  I myself am
taking a break from the biting and chewing and 
swallowing to lie down in solidarity with 
food coma.  And play a game.”

          “You there?!  It’s your turn!”

“Deeeeeelicous!”

          “Delicious, yes.
          Didn’t you say you taste like bacon?
          Maybe?”

“I might have.
Cuz I am a pig.
And I love to eat them, too.
Also, everybody knows that I am bacon’s
number one fan.”

          “Why do I have a feeling that the more I know 
          of you the more amazing I will realize you are?”

“You and me both [nervous laughter emoji]”

          “Understanding well that you strongly dislike
          pigeon’s buttholes, and given that I have
          nevertheless only known you know for [checks
          wristwatch] six months....”

“You sweet, sweet man!”

           “It looks great!”

“Uhhuh.  It is incredibly hearty!”

          “Hearty...
          Sweet.
          Savory, actually.
          Stay safe!”

“Well, as for my something new, I am getting a large
peach slushy.”

          “Yes, I could see that.”

“You are quite the experienced man, you know!”

          “And you, young whippersnapper, are a
          genius!”

“There’s a sentence with an obvious butt at the
end of it.  Do proceed.”

          “Sweet dreams.”

“It is a dog eat dog world out there.  You, too!”

mmcmxcii

Domination is damnation.

You each, we each,
Owe those you spite enough
Love,
Freedom and
Equality for 1,000 lifetimes (and with a
Gouging
Regret).
Our apologies burn, oh blessed
Emblem of our soaring, incomplete
Guilt.

mmcmxci

Matterings*

Stew too eerie?

Stew too bare?

Boo hoo leery!

Whom to wear?

I tip cars grooving, many hounds run and pout.

See birds more lauded cut my salve, um, the louts!

“Mathew be a guy.” At last it has been said.

Sue took a pee.  The mastiffs scour, bend to laze.

Hitchhiker’s stealing cats?  Depends.  Under age?

Kento be lies.  Do men sow what they bleed?

Butter curds, more!   Minoan isn’t many.  Four?

Gunther heard more.  The dom he, no gun, glistens.

Hot mustard for Ben (moan!) pissing (whizz!)

To muse walking that mall.

Blue shoes, no stockings that all.

*to the tune of “Words” by Missing Persons

mmcmxc

The Village’s Idiot

        If you can film it, it’s not real, just so you know.
                                                             —Carrie Fischer

livid mousse

entrapped

upon the

concrete

sphere / it’s

been ass

essed that
justice is

only just 

but thru the 
looking glass,
you see

/ not

tonight to
ward off

all the
schools —
in bluest

tooth to
winnow
all but

the hoop
iest loop
iest min

now the 

house :
the zaf

tigest 

whaliest
goof of 

the house / 

a sub
species 

all of its

self / it feigns

pains to plan 

the plan 

that’ll — men

acing — soon

be panned /
because only
the pomp

ous know

the ult
imate traj

ectory of
the snap
of the pan

orama that
is  shot / 
but oof! /

alas, it lands
but / ouch! /
a smidge to

the south
and beyond
the pond

erosa and its
yet not pet

rified inhab

itants / who
were only
just about

to send their
annual school
of papooses off

to Ponderosa
Kindergarten /
because papa

ooses are 
sign if I can’t,

too, you either 

see or do not 
see / but soon
instead its den

izens are frantic,
fanning poose
less flames for

life (as zip!

they make like 
vacuees and flee!) —

resembling most
the dangling fat
flat-screen tee

vees each once
decreed a home 
— and I do mean

verily!  mean

while the floof
amid the roiling

boom kaboom
that sent his
whizzbang bowl

ing ball a-whistle / 
he sees it whiz 
right thru the soon

burnt forest only 
to land / alas!
just south and 

past the pond
erosa / never
the less sending

its scurried
swath of
habitants

and their
swiftly
scooped 

papooses fran
tically into
the now burnt

forest / but

at the house 
of the fanged 

and grim
aced floop,
said ploop —

with purse

less lipless 
lips reminiscent

of poop ... /

... removes 
its ghostish 

eye of mottled
head from scope —

looks yonder

to the other

livid side of 

the livelong

room — to
wards its conic

onlookers —

who’ve all but 
not yet un-lived

in this expanse-

expense- ive

room each 
once called 

living / they

tick-guffaw 

like purloined

hearth-ridden

seahorses soon

enflamed : a life

less opera once a

wash in well-ton

icked follicules . . .

mmcmlxxxix

Huh?      Huh!


I love language

and linguine!

....Ooh!  Lasagne!

mmcmlxxxviii

butt butt buttAH!*

     i know u r butt whut um i?

             —attributted to a mr. u. r. butt (whose biography is otherwise bare)

scuttlebutt

buttscotcher
beach butt

nutterbutt

butterboat

butch butt

butt much?

ball butter

butt baller

butt breast

boxbutter

butt cruncher

easy butt

peasy butt

butt blotter

robot butt

butt robuste

butts or bust!

*that’s of course a chicken butt