Shits and Giggles

And now for my own bit of shit. Actual exchange from years ago.

Shit man
I ain't mindin' your bidniss
Don't you be mindin'
my bidniss,
if I ain't mindin'
you're bidniss.

Al. If you were doin' your
bidniss
I wouldn't be mindin' your
bidniss.
But you're out here
stinkin' up the place instead.
Get back to work.

(Said right outside of the shiter)

Too Damn funny :D
 
Thank you, Trix, for your PC on The Garderobe.

I left the shit out of the last line of Boadicea...

...because I wrote it for a class exercise.
 
A Bukowski Frankenpoem

Some people never go crazy
What truly horrible lives
They must lead

God, no taller than a landlady
Hair dyed red, has asked me the time
And the clouds move sickly through
A sky that has died
The whores stand straight
All excite me with the cold calmness of the gravestone
I can feel doom like
Something under the sheets with bristles
That stinks and moves
Toward me
And you are shaken back
Into what is left
Of your life
The cigar biting your lips
The way love used to
And I got out of bed and yawned and scratched my belly
And I knew that soon very soon I would have to get
Very drunk again
The bottles we have emptied would strangle the
Sensibilities . . . of God
We can't cry, and it helps to laugh --
It's like letting out
Dreams, ideals
Poisons
I'm too old to argue
I've gone with the poem

The way to end a poem
Like this
Is to become suddenly
Quiet
 
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He Loved Baseball, once

They called him Johnny German.
maybe it was the accent, maybe
the twisted haircut his grandma
loaded his slight body down with,
maybe cuz they didn't know,
or it was the best mean
could contrive.
~but this immigrant, wanted
to love baseball.
Might he have been good?
we'll never know.
Is there a lonelier place,
than last one picked
in choosing teams?
You'll never know.
But Johnny knew, and he
learned the game
we americans invented.
I doubt he ever hit one
beyond the fence, and if he did
we weren't there to see it.
So i suppose, he never
really felt it. The applause,
you know.
I wonder of him often, and
what game he settled for.
And frankly,
it frightens me.
 
I wasn't johnny
Tho real he was
And perhaps, still is
Nor was i them, but rather
One somewhere, in between.
A silent watcher
A knower pretending otherwise.
In other words,
The worst criminal
Of them all.
He barely spoke english, but
Enough to say through his tears~
"i'm going to flush myself
Down the toilet"
They'd all laugh and hoot,
While i gathered distance
Like an old woman
Pulling in yarn.
Funny, how it still haunts me
Decade to decade
 
one last drink

"So, how do you like the party?"
she asked, hands on hips,
shoulders thrown back, and
a smile only an undertaker
could love.
To answer, he'd have to chew
the cud and toss his shoulders
back to make it all plausible.
He remembered Nashville, in
the meanest part of town.
walking right through the wall
of good sense, into a bar that
may just as well have hung
a sign; white folk not welcome.
But they served him, gin, silence,
and suspicious stares.
So he stayed for two.
Needing to piss, rather than ask,
he went looking, tried a door
with promise, which in fact held
a couch loaded with sex,
the fuse nearly spent.
"what the fuck you want!" he
more said than asked.
"get the fuck out and shut
the goddamn door!"
He should've left then, but
heard the guy mutter from
behind the door, "sonofabitch!"
So he ordered one last drink.
She asked again, "well, how do
like the party?"
He didn't answer
Chose not to
But he had one more drink, just
to fuck up the rhythm.
 
Distractions
Diversions
Faux faints
And slight of hand
An ace in the hole
One up the sleeve
A bullet in the chamber
So much life
So much bullshit
And only three shells
To hide the pea
 
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Distractions
Diversions
Faux faints
And slight of hand
An ace in the hole
One up the sleeve
A bullet in the chamber
So much life
So much bullshit
And only three shells
To hide the pea

Ok, really liked this one, the last two lines made me laugh.
 
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