“I’ll set the alarm for 9:30,” I said.
“You’ll wake up at 7,” she said.
“Its 2am and I’ve been drinking. I’ll sleep past 10,” I said.
The blanket fell to the floor in the overly air conditioned morning. As I picked it up, I looked at my phone. Exactly 7am. A little later, still shivering, I get up to turn the fan away from the bed. Then again to turn off the AC altogether.
I look at the clock again. It’s only 7:08. How did I spend thirty minutes struggling to fall back asleep in the span of only eight?
I glance at her. She’s snuggled under her comforter, as cozy as a slug in a mug. But I’m still not convinced. Whether through stealth, telekinesis or time travel, she caused that blanket to fall.
Or maybe some god just likes her better. I don’t blame him.
This recipe is soooo good! I did make a few changes. I used pork instead of chicken and BBQ sauce instead of orange sauce and instead of rice, I made french fries, but my husband and kids loved it, so I’ll definitely make it again! ★★★★★
I didn’t have any chicken on hand so I used peanut butter instead. My kids hated it. ★★
My oven is broken so I tried baking this pie by setting it on the sidewalk but my neighbor’s cat ate it and then got ran over by a car, so I’m sure not feeding this to my family! ★
I hate onions, so I didn’t expect to like these onion blossoms and I was right. This recipe sucks. I wish I could give it negative stars. ★
I am on a gluten-free diet so I switched the 2 cups of flour with 2 cups of metal shavings and the cake didn’t rise at all! :( ★★★
This recipe is horrible. The 5000 people who rated it 4 or 5 stars must have made it wrong. I followed it exactly and it came out tasting like warm concrete. ★
I cooked this lasagna for my lady friend and then we had sex. ★★★★★
I learned how to cook from my grandmother and she never needed a recipe, so I don’t use them either. If you use this recipe, you’re not a real cook. Make everything from scratch. ★
The Likelihood That I Will Eat A Salad
The girl at the McDonalds window looks through me with dead eyes, already taking the order of the next person in line, as I hand her my debit card. She thanks me as she returns the card but her words are as robotic as electric sheep dreams.
The guy at window #2, with his dark skin and bleached blonde afro, radiates life when he hands me my food. He clearly hears what I say and responds in kind.
The radio is playing a Florence and the Machine song, the first by the band that I haven’t disliked.
And I think: I should write a poem about this.
I want to open a massage parlor named Bipolar Finale. The customer will never know if they’re getting a handjob or just punched in the junk.
Also, I want to open a strip club in a college town and call it Tuition.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. You hadn’t been gone for five minutes and I felt like slitting my wrists. If that’s how I react to a six day trip, I refuse to ponder forever.
On the drive home, I listened to Guns ‘n Roses, a band you hate. I thought Welcome To The Jungle might pump me up. But your stereo, ever finicky about MP3 CDs, insisted on playing Don’t Cry. How fucking ironic.
I occasionally browse through the casual encounters section of Craig’s List because I enjoy seeing how many different ways people can misspell slang words for vagina. These are a few of the recurring thoughts that enter my mind:
Stumbling along the empty streets at dawn, my stomach as uneasy as my every step, I look to the sunrise, hoping it will eradicate the the fog blanketing my brain, only to discover a throbbing pain behind my eyes. I’ll never forget her body, but the only name I remember from last night is Jose Cuervo.
Originally written in response to a prompt for Auntie Mae’s Mighty Fine Poetry Night, where it was first read.
My penis is larger than Tao Lin’s penis.
I know because someone asked him
how long his penis was
in a Q & A session
at The Rumpus
and he said ~5” erect.
Mine is in the 6.5” range.
What relevancy does this hold?
other than it has inspired me
to assemble a collection of poems
that I will entitle
My Penis Is Larger Than Tao Lin’s Penis
in which I will probably include this poem.
So thank you, Tao Lin, for having a smaller penis than me.
I’ll take my inspiration wherever I can find it.
Apologies for failing to update this blog for the past couple of weeks. I was in traction after being accidentally kicked in the balls by a converted lesbian.
A typical male fantasy involves “converting” a lesbian and having her fall in love with him.
A typical male fails to take into consideration that lesbians, by definition, have little-to-no scrotal experience. Thus they are prone to accidentally kicking you in the balls when rolling around in bed, forgetting that it will reduce you to a crumpled heap of crippling pain.