Charlotte's Husband's Wrath

Baby,
I'm black and I'm mean,
get what I'm sayin?

See these eight legs,
bitch look,
you see them?

They're stronger than
any one of their lil shit legs
down there,
yet I can crawl all over them
and they would not feel
a thing.

Yeah,
I can sneak up
on those ugly fuckers
when they're having their
precious dreams
about lollipops and playgrounds
and turn their lives
into a fucking nightmare!

I can do it!
I can do it in one bite!!

Hairy whore,
you don't believe me?!

I'll show you!

I'll show all of you cocksuckers!!

Pathetic humans,
I'm the size of
one of their disgusting moles,
yet I'm much more beautiful
and have enough poison in me
to kill all of them.

I'm going to do it too
and creep away
as if
nothing has happened.

No! No!! NO!!!

I won't just walk away,
that wouldn't be enough!
I'll vomit,
and shit,
and jerk off on them too!

And then they'll fucking die!!

A horrible, horrific death,
the way they were suppose to go.

I'll show them Charlotte!

Those hideous pale bastards will pay
for destroying our home!!!

You hear me cunt scab?!

They'll all suffer!!!

But first,
get me a damn fly
and come toss my spider asshole!!!

It's supper time!!!!!

Through My Dreams

came a vision
of the future
or was it
the past?

Well,
either way,
it was a glimpse of
what could have been
if my brother
was still alive
today.

It was pathetic.

He was a fat junkie.
I was even more of a drunken idiot.
My cousin was miles beyond worthless.

Together,
we brought down the family.

We used them,
we used each other,
we used everybody
at every chance.

Nothing was sacred.

Our reality was a nightmare.

It's not now.

I don't want to say it,
but maybe,
just maybe,
this was all
meant
to happen.

He was destined to die
young,
to become a star,
to guide us
through our suicidal nights,
through our painstaking days,
through all of our depressing dreams
and impossible reality.

Through my dreams
I think
I can believe

the truth.

Hermit Covers

Danger was in the air.

I could taste its bitterness
in the winter winds.

I could feel its strength
pushing me over the edge,

but I kept on driving.

A stop sign came up,
I was hesitant
to push on the brake,
but a woman pushing a stroller
and walking her poodle,
decided to cross the street.

I had to stop.

Dammit, I thought,
just let me get home
and hide under the covers
for a few days.

Is that so much to ask for?

Just then,
she stopped
right in front of me,
to tie her fucking shoes.

Honk! Honk!

Dammit bitch, I muttered
under my breath,
get the fuck
out of the way.

I honked again,
its loudness frightened
the poodle.

It growled.

Its eyes turned a dark blue.

Foam began to crawl out of its mouth.

It jumped up
and into the stroller.

Its teeth and claws
dug into
the baby.

Blood squirted out,
hitting the mother in the face.

She tried to stop it.

It bite her in the hand.

The baby was crying and struggling,
I could see
its tiny hand
reach and grab
the dog's tongue
and rip it out.

The dog fell
and convulsed
on the ground.

Its blood and foam and mucus
made a puddle,
the woman slipped on it,
panicked.

She got back up.

She must have loved that dog
more than her child
because she picked him up
and began to slam
its tiny head against
the street.

I sped off.

I had had enough
for one day.

Dammit, I said to myself,
I knew
I should have stayed home
under the covers.

Before I made it back,
I saw an old man
trying to cross the street
in front of me.

I sped up,
just in case.

He jumped under the wheels.

I felt them go over
his head
and body.

I left him there.

I left everything
behind
and went home.

I hid under the covers.

I've been here ever since.

I don't plan on leaving.

Another Bullshit Barroom Story

I was flying.

I crashed through the window,
waved goodbye to my grandpa,
and was off.

Out in the great blue sky
the sun was shinning, but
the wind was chilly,
and the birds and dragonflies looked at me
strangely.

Of course,
I knew why
their beedy lil eyes
were judging.

I was half naked,
shitting
on a flying toilet.

There was no explanation for this.

There was no stopping it.

I continued on,
going wherever the wind
blew me,
enjoying the view
and laughing at my own farts.

Then, the toilet
stopped,
hovering
right above a police station.

Hello officer,
I said,
can you get me down
from here?
I seem to be
stuck.

Fart, plunk.

My poop fell on his bald head.

I looked down.

He seemed to be mad.

I tried to get away.

That's when he reached
for his gun
and shot and fired.

The toilet was bulletproof.

I laughed,
wiped,
flushed,
and flew to the nearest bar,
where I retold this story
just as I have
told it
to you.

I'm full of it?

Fuck you.

Fart. Plunk.

Not anymore!

Give me another beer!

Answer Me

Were we meant to suffer?

Everyday,
I'm concerned
about
whether or not
I can buy lunch.

My usual response is,
I should just starve,
I shouldn't be wasting
my money
on food.

I have too many bills to pay.

I feel like I'm grinding my teeth
to the gums.

I feel like stealing money.

I feel like this is not
the way
we were meant
to live.

It seems as if
all of our dreams
revolve around
MONEY.

I wish I no longer had any.

Fuck these dreams.

I wish I was lost
on a deserted island
talking to a narwhal
or just staring into space
for hours on end,
losing myself between the stars.

I wish,
I wish,
I wish
this world
didn't exist.

It one blink,
it was all gone.

Drop the bomb,
suck us into a black hole,
God,
for once in your almighty existence,
help us please.

Answer me!

Make it end. Make it end.