CLASSIC ALBUMS pt. 2

new poem

Karl asks a question.

lets call them

Mike
and
Paul,

two twentysix
year old
dudes, white
as glue with

backward
baseball caps, both

porn-
obsessed,

well I saw them last night
outside the Chevron station,
the certified chillspot

for Floridian
hoodlums, anyway,

yes, I saw them there, Mike and Paul,

with two
young teens, two girls, two

nympho Goddesses
in
training, and I

started thinking
to myself,

tonight,
Paul and Mike are
going to
fuck the shit out of these
beautiful teenage ladies,
perhaps even

pop their
bathed
and
shaved cherries,

so my question is,

why am I,
a classy kind of guy,
locked in the trunk of my car
about to die from swallowing too
many of my wife's

prescription
pain
pills?

new poem

Larry (and his buddy)

On mondays,
between the hours of three and five pm,

I leave my house to meet my friend named,
well, no, I'm not going to tell you his

actual name because
I could be killed

and I am afraid of death
and so are you

so stop lying to yourself right now,
you fucking liar you fucking liar.

Anyway, my nameless friend was injured badly
several years ago in a horrible accident

and he lost both of his legs
and both of his testicles,

so now he lives alone in a modest
little home and on

mondays I meet
with him, my friend, between three

and five pm because
he provides me with the

all the firearms and ammunition
I need in order to protect myself in this

increasingly dangerous world.
So my friend, the gunslinging cripple

with
ONE TESTICLE

happens to agree,
we live in a world which will eventually

implode or explode or be taken over by
homicidal alien creatures,

and, God Forbid, if such a thing happens,
at least my nameless friend

and I will be
prepared to kick ass and prove who's boss

in this vortex of

unbridled freedom

three of my favorite films part 2

new poem

Bingo

Everyone at
Bingo is diseased,
even the folks of my
friends, like my

friend Sal, his
mother Marge
is all about
Bingo, goes there every
Friday

until recently
when Sal's Dad
found out that Marge was
a liar liar pants on fire
and that

Bingo was not Bingo and that
Bingo was a bar and
Bingo was some other dude's dick.

My friend Sal,
his family

is

FUCKED UP.

CLASSIC ALBUMS part one

new poem

Wanda

Naked, between two oncoming Hondas.

My friend or fuckbuddy or whatever named
Wanda got killed that way. Naked and dusted
out of her skull.

Wanda liked to strip down so much she even
made a living at it. She stayed at my place
for a few weeks and used to smoke a ton of
crack in the bathroom near the kitchen.

I told her it was cool as long as she helped
clean up around the house sometimes,
and suck my dick daily.

Okay, so one day
Wanda was gone and
so was all my money.

I got so angry
I threw my TV at the stove.

It's fucked up, but
at one point I even wished
death upon that bitch but
then like

two days ago I heard she was dead
and so I was like "Oh shit" so I started
writing this and so now i'm done

I guess? Yeah.