Poetry

A Hindi Dream

Looked out the window

Saw a Hindu doing pilates on the edge of a tree branch

I dipped fries in ranch and watched his peacefulness

He made eye contact with me after a while

A gust of wind dropped him

I said, Fuck! I called an ambulance

From indoors I saw paramedics arrive

Just then I got a text, it said we want this man dead or alive

The attachment was a picture of HIM! The Hindu

I rushed outside and stole him away from the medics

He said, buddy I need medical attention

I said, no you don’t

Just then a nuclear attack was launched

My Hindu friend couldn’t make it to the bathroom

💩

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Poetry

New Verse

New Verse, blue shirt benellevee
Smeared gel on smelly feet to cover the odor

“Welcome to Hollywood, may I take your order?”

yeah I’ll have a little bit of this

“Would you also like a little bit of that?”

yes

I went to the mess hall but it wasn’t a mess

One of the elders, his name was Quest

He said,

Rhyme cannonical

Time is abdominal

Meaning it’s crunch time?

Correct

But first it is lunch time

We ate oatmeal with pieces of meat in it

And performing live was Jean Paul Sartre

I read some of his books

Good for you!

He gave me a cookie, oatmeal of course

We then played sports, badminton

I received a 1st place ribbon and appeared on SportsCenter later

A guy ran out of a coffeeshop and said, “hey this is you in the paper”

Wow, this is a good picture of me

I made note of the author to thank him later

Turns out the author was kind of hot and now I want to date her

But first, I was shown a crater in Area 51

We filled it with champagne and swam

Girls with tans were all over us

We boarded a party bus and went to Atlanta

We watched the Superbowl, Patriots, Rams

Didn’t this already happen?

The elder was gone

And now I’m in a room with a table of pong, playing a guy named Ping

A termite sings in the shelter of dogs and the Grammy goes to him

A hat I wear with a golden brim and a silver cane props me up

A guy named Flux calls me over and shows me his Gameboy

Pretty cool, right? It just came out

Then a guy named Lout calls me out

A wave of my hand and he becomes a trout

I ride a shout like a slide and appear in front of deer, they’re having a meeting

They are planning on dressing up as people in costumes and going trick or treating, a scheme to get candy

Deer eat candy? Oh shit! I clasped at my mouth

Who invited him?!

Now I’m being head-butted by deer, it’s worse than it sounds

Now I’m Downtown. On Wacker Drive a pitcher’s mound. And I’m coming out of a dugout.

Dusty Baker is like, it’s up to you kid

I throw a curve ball and strike him out with one pitch. Then the app Stitch. And then a future app named Kitch. Having something to do with kitchens.


Oh my god the clock is ticking
..

It’s the elder! Where the fuck have you been

In the gym working on my abs

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Poetry

Dreamt Of A Wild One

I had a scary dream
Construction workers were slamming their equipment into Dairy Queen
And I was in it

Of course zombies were behind them
Tearing at their flesh
One guy broke the glass as a zombie launched itself on his back

I’m like, fuck!

Then I was in a desert with a German Shepherd and a Leapord

The Leapord pissed water and the Shepherd shat moon pies

They also defended me against vicious camels who ran like horses and on their backs rode cactus holding ticki torches

The cacti were the hardest to kill, because it’s wise not bite em

I was fortunate to find in an abandoned temple a pickaxe to slice em

Then I was in a river, flowing downstream too fast to comprehend where it was leading to

It drops me off at a hospital with a cactus on a stretcher with a feeding tube

Then I heard a commotion.
Outside construction workers were slamming their equipment into the hospital
And a wave of zombies was hot on their trails

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Blake Eddy

The Story Of Blake

It was getting late and Blake ate at a pinic table a saltine

He thought of Jean. Jean was his dream. He wrote her a poem called, I Dream of Jean

He recited the poem to the point of insanity

I Dream of Jean,

he said it slowly,

then rapidly

When he finally saw Jean, he fell in love with her friend Pauline

Now he’s writing a poem called, I Dream of Pauline

And he completely forget the poem called, I Dream of Jean

One day Jean saw Blake. In a tent by the lake – where he lived

Blake was behind a tree taking a piss…when he heard…

I dream of Blake
Blake the one by the lake
The one who says I look great
Without up-make, make-up that is
I dream of Blake, what does he do
How does he live
I dream of Blake, I dream of my prince
I tell my coworkers I’m dreaming of Blake
Please do not pinch
Blake! Blake! Blake! Is the chant in my head
I dream of Blake, and I will dream till I’m dead

Blake: aww shit. I forgot the poem

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Journal

President Jose

I can’t wait to run for President. I can’t wait to be President. Not no bitch ass Prime Minister that’ll follow George Bush into the Iraq War.

I know I’ll make a good President – at worst. At best I’ll make a great President. It’s inevitable. I just have to hold on. Stay alive long enough.

In my novel there’s a part where I become President. Imagine if later on when I become President I do it in the same fashion I illustrate in my book!!!

Talk about surreal, huh?

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Poetry

She Is My Wife

I made up my wife
I’m like, wife, what do you think about this passage?
Wife: omg Jose, I love it. That’s so touching what you said towards the end of it. Definitely keep that in.
Me: thanks, wife.

5 minutes later.

Me: Hey wife, do you love me?
Wife: of course I do Jose. You know that.
Me: ok thanks wife. Just checking.

1 minute later

Me: hey wife
Wife: what Jose?
Me: do you want to watch me play Madden?
Wife: yes Jose

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