Friday, May 11, 2012

Chuck Palahniuk

Chuck Palahniuk skull
the caves of Alta-mira
and Lascaux. Borders
Books. Barnes & Nobel
asswipery of magazine
subsets subselections.

Hot young dudes
subsets subselections
of different cock bows

they can get off just
saying their names,
rubbing their names
together like cocks

but

thinking cunt
on a drop-down menu.

Gay boys are getting
much straighter/depressing.

Grazing australopithecines
blow moonlets on coffees.
Third world panties

appear in the surface
of the conquistador shit water,

turns around it's
a transgender Indian

programmer. You imagine
an entire life together.

Entire life meaning
you're 27 now and

(s)he's 22, so the
sex lasts interestingly

post-op to maybe her
29, your 34. I can't

add. One day you fight
over the cutting of hedges

and you storm off
into a straighter, more

straight form of fucking
wtf marriage and secretly

start voting for the other side.
Democrat or something.

"I love your Edward Scisshorhands
girlfriend," someone says

about a transsexual
but she thinks it's funny

and blows little moons
off her coffee top

onto the concrete
of the First World

which is the one
with the biggest strap-on

and most game shows
about real serial killing.

Like most people, I was once
of an age when I would have given

Ezra Pound a blow job.

No, I don't drink that coffee shit.

Why do you think I called it
"conquistador shit water?'

Can't you tell I'm a poet
and I can't read?

Somebody please take my hand.

The other one.

The one without the machete.

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