Stripy Bag

Stripy bag
sitting on my coffee table
you are replete
with smugness
I see you smirking at me
and stealing my socks
but why?
Why
stripy bag
do you torture me?
You make me sad
and distant
and full of cheese
stripy bag
of desire

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Thumbtacks

My thumbtacks are profound
so profound
so full of lightning
Run
thumbtacks
run
through the meadow of remembrance
and past
the wasteland of desire

You will never miss the sound
of the albatross whining
oh how it whines
oh how it snivels and whines
flee
thumbtacks
flee
and never look back
never
never
never

Delicious

wallowing owls
caught
in the synchronicity of sunshine
flap lewdly
into the vortex
of desire

fly
owls
fly
owls
soar
owls
kill
owls
kill
kill
kill

no one understands me
no one understands my pain
quoth the owl
trapped under the muskrat

into the howling darkness
flees the white stallion

Spiders

O tiny spiders
imbued with the desire
to seek out insects for food
I do understand your need
to weave webs all over everything
but I wish you
would do it outside

That cat statue
is not a viable anchor for your web
and neither is my laptop computer
which I was rather hoping to be able to use
this morning

I understand
that you came in with the deck furniture
while the deck was being refinished
but kindly stop crawling unexpectedly out of everything
because you actually do rather terrify me
and there aren’t any bugs in here
for you to eat

I would suggest
you all move quietly over to the door
and then go through it
because nobody needs to be awoken at seven a.m.
by me screaming bloody murder in the living room

Empty Brain

The howling void
inside my head
is howling
and echoing
but mostly howling
with delicious ineptitude

I would like to punch
the void
with the fists of metaphor
and kick it
with the feet of synecdoche

But no
and lo
my feet are alone
in the wilderness of desire
and I cannot reach them
I can never reach them

Punish me
my feet
punish me
and at long last
be fulfilled

Romance

My love for you
is as deep as the grease at the bottom of this frying pan
and almost as slimy

I need to embrace you
and caress you awkwardly
and squeeze you in such a way that we both become uncomfortable

Have this carrot
as a token of my love
and the recent health-food craze

Let us join sweaty hands
and skip off into the kitchen of desire
which is also rather greasy, I hear

Fridays Are Boring

When I say Fridays are boring
you think I am crazy
but no
I am clever
for Fridays are not boring
and yet I say they are

My vastly superior brain
is full of sly reversals
and attempts to frustrate your desire
for the world to be safe
and predictable
and full of wonderful Fridays

Tomorrow
I shall tell your that Mondays are exciting
and watch the light of hope
die in your eyes