a sour launch

wembley ninny girls

eat your peaches and pebbles

a rock to afford

a gentle peddler of used wares

out a t-shirt and sells it vintage

as if jesus himself wore it

so its mens clothes for sure


dandruff lemonskin flake

you’d think it’s sour but it’s rich

and slightly sweet-creamy like

a slice of thin parmesan clear like

a slide of dead skin off the heel

cut but you do not feel it (yet)


but wait for it, the wound must always rip

it must always break before it mends itself with crystal webs of

skin growing slowly to replace the skin that was lost and eaten up by germs and worms and birds

slowly the wound heels like a shoehorn

that is in to make the out and the off easier, faster, and more efficient so we can move onto bigger and better things involving money and power and self-indulgence read selfishly write here


mariachi hoo-ha

digest the impeccable diamond

candlewicks start the engine and rev til Sunday salvage

wax hand cream potato corn beef salt pork border

ice pizzicato five more minutes til the internet is done

minuto diminuendo innuendo farm-boy ripped seams

gibbons shred the constitution to ribbons an endorsement

and we laugh in circles, up then down then

all around and until the end of the day we work

because we have to pay the bills in order to survive

and in order to survive we have to live, we have to

we just have to


i cannot slope monter monitor the monitor for monitors on a turn

i hear the tubas approaching aggressively and ask the

candidate iron chef maiden lady ore what

malicious malintent computer virus wants to know if its dead or alive

vitriol ribosome chloroform of a figure of a nineteenth century woman

fuck the centuries the 21st century shouldn’t start until 2100 that’s how numbers make sense

down with the calendar year

up with the fro-yo returns

to the beginning again


and the crowd boos and i say

why are you expressing emotions of malcontent?

hast i forsaken thou

hast i

hast i

I just keep it going high pre

Tect your self from the honor of your family

And mulk milk the cow milk it baby

Suck on the teet

Drink the mulk

Fuck amir


Just fucking

Just kissing.

Hsut smut

Just kidding all of it.

The rug the family rug

The rug embroidered with our faces

I Trust Dale

I Trump the rump the rook the card

The Christmas miracle

The hallmark company

The mask

John Kerry in the mask

John mitsuibishi in the mask 2

am I holding the grudge again

The gorgon’s snakes

The cattle’s tales

The tale of the beggar on the ride of the road with the telephone in his hand that does not work. On the other side of the hill there is a trash can bigger than you think it is because it is a green trash can and optically speaking when eyes see green they just shrink right away, they can’t see in green but only pink and if it is anything else then it will be a disaster, a dry disaster like the desert storm, like the American genocide, like the patriot with the gun on the back of the daughter, with the scarf eater, with the swallowing of the semen of the priest, with the coat hanger, with the dog, with the dog watching, with the fish tank open, with the oven on, with the car running, with the alarm going off, with the bombs dropping, with the children dying, with the elderly speaking morals which we do not believe, with anarchy the state fell like the only domino, a singular domino.

I love dominos, I would like to order it now and watch the pizza man move from station to station, whether he is making the crust or firing the oven or on his way to me right now.

I’m sorry that he is nothing but pixels?

Can you hear me?

Through the microphone?

Is the cam on?

Do you like what you see?

Can you see me at all?

Am I even here?

Am I a singular gesture?

Am I a run in the pants of the philistines who would like to think their wives were austere but have a lot to come to terms with if they want salvation. Have you given alms? Have you given your arms to an amputee? Have you considered the paradox of disabled masculinity? Have you read Readers Digest, I’ve heard laughter is the best medicine. I hear little light blue lines. I hear anyone can get better if they put their minds to it. I heard it’s all in my head, the voices I mean, I love the voice in this poem, I love diversity and I’m ready to celebrate it, I have posters on my wall and cinder block walls, I have concrete veins like tunnels, I’ve never seen a building collapse, I love structure and grammar, I love to sip lightly carbonated beverages, I have a moustache with a single hair.

Dude. Dude. Dude. Gendered language is so important to the deodorant industry, that the secret, don’t axe questions okay my dove? You are an irish spring of cleanliness but not always and even though you won’t fuck me right now I still stuck out my tongue and tasted coarse pheromones and savored it like sea breeze mountain air Cyprus and malta and the Dominican republic and even borneo

I love a nice thick cock

I love to drink beer

Lets make three zeros

Three times nothing is infinity is it not is nothing infinity if it is an infinite absence or an infinite loss a negative infinite limit equals the amount of time I wish I spent thinking about useless things like utility and bills and the games that we play on our cell phones when we are on the toilet and when we touch our gloves to the screen and it just wont cut it anymore im going to yell at the apple employee like he murdered my son

Please narcissism narcissism alright like narcissus alright like the third of the person trying to be whole if you want to take it to twin discrimination im going to have to ask you to be twintersectional or a little twink sectional where you can fuck me while we drink the franzia you bought and you lift up your skirt and show me what’s up there and how big it is

More more for the sake of more for the land of the majority the home of authority the liberty bell has a crack in it and didn’t last too long the first time I heard a dog bark I thought it was a comet entering the atmosphere like a raincloud of Dramamine and the end of the world doesn’t seem so bad anymore

kuruma karamba

buzz buzz anxious

i have my milkshake

i know that

someone cares about

arkansas moon shine dancing

southerners walking into wine stores


the sounds the stomachs squelch

and if it had a powderkeg to dance in the stomachstream

itd gnaw its own knots afraid not to-s


bungee cord snap shot

bottlecap snap gravel mudwheel pop pebble

pine ducks junkies junk

here comes the puke


i don’t need you to live i just want you to live

i don’t need you to love i just want you to love

i don’t need you to be happy i just want you to be happy


i want every breath to smell like your

armpits socks pubic mangrove

warm shrimp donut hole w al dente rigatoni


camera gloss asks matte black hair

is my body my body

the best body it could be

should i alter my body should i

correct my body should i make it normal


open sores against titanium

witness the protection program

watch the world burns

scorched ground beneath our feet our common crust

globalization mantra fav and retweet or do we say like now

do we say we like it now when we like it do you like it

do you like me do you like my sweater do you like more of my sweater

God = Zuck

narcissus complex


ritual gunfire swordfight

dandelion warfare

bigwig apocalyptic

stirs cthulu

quake the earth like a quaker trembling to the face of god

in the face of god there is not a blemish in the face of god

there is not a pore god uses proactive because god is jessica simpson


an object of love

or what is beyond words

when words fail, that’s when i want to talk the most

love what of it

death what of it


the lose-their-futures

the forgetmenots

the IOU selling the kids a needle full of hope

the only thing the queers can reproduce is neoliberalism

and don’t ask me about the alternative or you’ll coopt it

shape into shapes into forms

round round winters summers springs

manipulate peanut butter swing the

rope princess peach professor plum

mauve over roger colonel mustard

greyish slip of dust and thick bath

of orange light in taffeta truffula splashes

chiaroscuro maraschino Corsica-Sardinia

touches upon a flat plane of flesh a

crystalline choker pink mascara a

teal bandana black velvet and

bleached leather blacker uvular

arugulas greenish ashes a melodic

samba ga hamburger crisp tingles

down dewy dewed points melon

brown blue vapor wood dust again the

canoe water streaming hushes whisper

shelter shelter shelter shelter sheltered

paradise (redux)

bamboo stalks and pink marigolds on

en plein aire buenas noches mi caballo

cocina amor en las calcetinas blancas

i want you to tie me up and tickle me til i cum

on your red linen pants and you wear the stain

as a fashion statement a record of devotion a

marination cardamom marmalade sticky sweet

the flies land on me you lick them off with

diligent tongue turned opal from intake

of carapace and wing a seething mass

like a seafaring people without boats anymore


line of flight a lie told

the moon behind the clouds

sunk down to greet me when

i spat on the pavement and

planted a tree and i

figured it out the figure figured figure eight


magic is stored in the balls

and when you pee its greenish

syrupy syrobonkus green blurb too much vitamins b and d but


i got my certificate to live another day

the text i need to go to sleep tonight

to wash the dishes in my dream


the volcano

might erupt any day now the plume

has erected itself and a mate

will soon be attracted to the smell

of rotting meat and carcassed sulphur

wound lickers will pilgrimage

to taste the salt and eat the mud

the mythos is chthonic kudzu tendrils

that deliver me to sanctity

without hesitance the opening of the

legs the parting of the red sea

the exploration the ‘discovery’ the experimentation

subsumes insumes consumes absorbs

phagocytosis the flesh the oil the slaugh of skin cells

insufflated snorted chamomile and

doterra wiggled piggies bodies

a romantic head fuck simulated

in the bus station the maze of the

mirror the flow of the river carries me home to dance to cry to sit and die

i went outside

here is a small portfolio of poems i made for a workshop course i took over the spring semester at ku with megan kaminski and some cool helpful classmates. the collection is called i went outside because i wrote many of the poems while i was outside. i had a statement of poetics with it but idk where it went? shruuuugs anyway i hope u enjoy it.