HAIRSHIRT 

        Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery

 
.

 

 

 

 

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Sunday, January 02, 2005

 

The Muse is upon Me

I had a moment of clarity last night. I came to the realization that I've been wasting my time. I've been writing "essays" and "comedy" when what's really in my heart, what's deep within my soul...is poetry. Yes, I want to be--no, no. Better to say, "I am meant to be, destined to be..." a poet. And so, in 2005, I leave behind my pitiful attempts at wit. I embrace my heart. From here on out, I shall write nothing but...word art. Not word art in the Microsoft Office sense, where you take words and stretch them in different ways to be eye-catching. Oh, no. I shall make art out of words. Like a sculptor works in whatever they work in, I shall use words to paint my canvas. Here for you now, my very first effort.

It's an exploration of the innocence of childhood. I call it...


Violent Orgasm (A Poetic Treatise)

Turtle Wax! Turtle wax!
My dogs like carrots.
Oh dey like ‘em da carrots.
How I long for the
Restless simplicity of toasted cheese.
Grilled? Perhaps. Perhaps.
But toasted in some places.

Deviled Ham! Deviled Ham!
The garbage must be
Taken out! Taken out!
Now? Oh, yes. Yes. Now.

Damn Ebert!
Damn Roeper!
The Aviator stunk on
Hot fucking ice.
“Best of” my hairy ass.

Woe be unto Bush. For
He shall know the pain and
Dread of my scorn.
Hear him weep in the night,
Because he knows I don’t like
Him. Oh, he knows.
And weeps.


Pimple!


My God, I'm good. It's just so incredibly moving, no?


Comments:
So that's why GWB cries at night.
 
Uh yeah... moving.
 
no.
 
I AM MOVED
 
Post a Comment



<< Home

 

 
Links

 

 
           
     
    
.