gozer is a little hound
with fuzzy paws, and teeth
and you can pet his fuzzy coat
and feel the dog beneath
i let him on the bed with me
although sometimes he pees
but when he's good he snuggles up
and sleeps between my knees
he will not bite your little child
unless your child attacks
happily, he'll share his kisses
and fleas that he attracts
he's still a little puppy now
but will cease to be so tiny
but even when he's old and grey
he will always be mine-y.

thank you, no, i have not been drinking.

Up and doing!

Dear Friend,

If you would like to make love with one (or more) women who are almost crazy to have sex with you, this will be the most exciting message you will ever read.

the self-fulfilling prophecy

the shaman whispered to his greatest warrior that someday quite soon, events would change their lives as had been foretold, and the gods would be pleased. the warrior's people lived across a valley from a poorer tribe and the prophecy described a river of blood dividing the two. "but no blood is spilt. we have been like brothers for centuries," the warrior protested. "the gods must be satisfied," the shaman insisted.

from a tree on the way down into the valley, the warrior plucked a large citrus, the kind that never grew on the other side of the valley. very little grew there, and the people were often hungry.

the first member of the other tribe he laid eyes upon was a woman, young and foolish and thin with hunger. he smiled as he walked up to her and she looked upon him shyly. he produced the fruit and her eyes grew large. such gifts moved from tribe to tribe, not between individuals, so the captains of hers could be sure those benefiting from the neighbors' generosity were those who needed it most. she touched her lip, and he nodded. she held out her hand.

he turned and took a few steps away from her, then looked brightly back over his shoulder. confusion on her features renewed itself into joy, and she skipped up to him. again she held out her hand. he withdrew the fruit, his smile turning icy. the woman made frustrated grabs now, mirth slipping from her eyes with each attempt. he moved the item further and further from her until she was almost climbing him to get at it. and then he slapped her, hard enough to knock her down.

she looked at him and steel forged in her eyes. as her posture changed, her tribe assembled around her. they fell upon the warrior and ripped him apart, and both tribes saw this and descended deep into the valley to make war.

finally they were all gone, but the shaman, who remainded rocking himself back and forth on the bloody ground, laughing, "i told you so, i told you so.."

where the airplanes all have horns that play la cucaracha

                                 baby,
                                    you've got to be more discerning

i keep my poetic license right next to my concealed weapons
 permit.

two sips from the cup of human kindness and i'm shitfaced

Suck on my fingertips until you kill all my prints
So your boyfriend has no clue
Of how much I've been touching you

  i want you to know, the rays of a mullet are straight.

                      not guilty, i said, you've got the wrong man
                                    nothin' touched the trigger but the
                             devil's right hand

I know your heart can't grieve what your eyes won't see. But you were my favorite moment of a dead century.

     you can keep the reward, i'd just as soon stay sick

love like you don't need the money