French Hairstyle and other poems

6 posts

French Hairstyle

This girl who works
with me,
she's cute,
with a petite,
exciting body,
and a cool french
I want to tear
her cunt

Her job is being
adorable and
she's very good
at it.
Words flow from
her strawberry lips
like a delightful melody.
I want to
rape those lips
and make her
on my pubes.

Dallas, 11/23/1963

I am back in time.
The idea is pretty simple:
scan Dealey Plaza
looking for pieces
of Kennedy's brains,
take them back to the future
and obtain all the information
that can be retrieved from them.
That will solve the mistery,
and justice will reign again.

The place is infested with cops,
so I try to look as
non-sniper as possible.
It doesn't work:
before five minutes have passed
I am arrested
and charged with first degree murder.

I give up,
travel back to the present
and forget about the whole damn thing.

(July 2012)


President Camacho

What is a "French hairstyle"?

My father-in-law

Always an unapologetic fat-ass,
he had a seizure in his early forties.
Hemiplegic since then,
he still refuses to lose weight.
I visit him, sitting by his side to hear his stories.
The pieces of what used to be his mind
swarm about the room,
crashing with the furniture,
blind and awkward.
He has nothing to say,
and there's no one to listen to him.
My mind wanders,
we both retreat into our own bleak worlds.
The evening dies off slowly.


I feel like I portrayed my father-in-law in a sympathetic light. Just to clarify matters: he's the ultimate slimeball. He deserves all the pain that he suffers every day - which is a lot, judging by his screams.