Muncie weather

How long can a cupcake be in the refrigerator before it goes bad

Chicago weather

Pizza places in wicker park

I get to be an intern for the Midwest Writer’s Workshop!! My friend Brendan says that the deciding factor was probably based on the shit poem I wrote this morning.


Probably.

Everyone here
shits in the morning.

I’m the only coffee drinker.

My insides are black, you fucks

Bang! Bang!
Let me in!

The morning monster
booms

LET ME OUT!
LET ME OUT!

He lay beside a dead dog
and the stars above didn’t give this a
second thought

Twinkle twinkle
Over all the corpses
Like candy
Sprinkles

He felt bad for the dog and the stars
And for himself
And everything
Else

Shiny dust

troublewithhammers:

It’s Day 13 of National Poetry Month so let’s kick things off with I Married You by Linda Pastan. Personally, I think a successful love poem is just about the toughest thing in the world to create (right next to an edible Hot Pocket) but I think Pastan pulls it off brilliantly by focusing on…

troublewithhammers:

It’s nice and warm outside so let’s keep this quick. Today’s first poem is Dear Humpback Whale by the great Sherman Alexie, a short but stunning piece that (for me) kind of sums up what poetry’s all about.

image


DEAR HUMPBACK WHALE
by Sherman Alexie

You are a barnacled planet afloat
In the…

Like, when did Harry Potter get his own box?

There is pressure you wear
your parents’ words on your
sleeve

So young and
naive 
And that’s just it

Eve is nigh.

She gloats
"My mom didn’t give a shit!"

Schizophrenia and Paranoia
walk into a bar.


They’re following you.


"

And the meanness and the plannings and the discontent and the ache for attention were all gone from her face. She was very pretty and simple, and her face was sweet and young. Now her rouged cheeks and her reddened lips made her seem alive…

As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment.

"

- John Steinbeck

Of Mice and Men

Swishy swashy swish
is the water between my cheeks
Swishy swashy swish
in my stomach when I can’t speak
Swishy swashy swish
is what I wish I could be


an onomatopoeia:
a word with sound and definition
but without
feel-
ing

I took a shower and afterward
it took me a half hour to put on undergarments.
The shower did not wash me of my thoughts.


It took me another hour to find a shirt
after a few words
after a few words
pages of few words


There’s plenty of senseless
talk and tinkering.
I can taste my heartbeat
I can hear my toes freeze
I can think of anything and
make-up everything

"those who escape hell
however
never talk about
it
and nothing much
bothers them
after
that."
— Charles Bukowski (via blackistheonlycolor)

Opening enrollment for a social media etiquette class.
Here’s a preview of the schedule:

Week 1: Constructing an appropriate and intriguing bio

Week 2: Why being a whiny bitch is not okay, and additionally, why no one seems to care

Week 3: SELFLESS SELFIES: How? Wha?

Week 4: Is it okay to say “fuck” on social media? If so, when should I or shouldn’t I say “fuck”? In this case, is the third time a “fuck”-ing charm?

Week 5: Arguing

Week 6: Apologizing

Week7: Understanding why the last two weeks have fractured your interpersonal relationship with someone

Week 8: Restraining from mocking those less knowledgeable than you OR Being able to mock those less knowledgeable than you without them knowing

Remainder of schedule to be determined. Open to suggestions.

I forget how talented I am with a drink in my hand
God, it feels good
God, it feels good

Bless me with your holy water
rocks and soot
rocks and soot

Fuck me in the river
be drift wood
be drift wood