vigorously masturbating

or, once more, with feeling!

A poem about the dip.


i think we have a winner on our hands!

finally,
after years of searching,
someone is willing to take their clothes off to be in my movie!

“i’m thrilled to introduce
the only one of us that i’m paying
to be a part of this voluntary production i’m arranging!”
what do you want for dinner tonight?
kobe beef?
i’m buying.

the rest of them, give ’em ramen with egg!
now stroke, stroke, stroke for Sadie Benning’s sake!

Continue reading

smells like a dirty sanchez

A poem.


you find yourself, reader,
in wicked spirit
being led by my dangled carrot into a modern family home
that to the modern teen, may as well be a modern garrote –
her room, her bed, her throne –
Mom thinks there must be something going on
cause the smell from the dining room downstairs
reeks like a bong:

“but how do you know that, Miss Antoinette? are you sure?

“it’s because of the parties to which i’ve been lured.
i haven’t actually smoked any. don’t be so perturbed –

“well how would you know it was weed
unless you were standing so close to them you could see?
then wouldn’t it be in the air that you breathe?
hmmm?
do you need me to get you a cup
into which you can pee?

“i didn’t have any, OK? JEEZ.

Continue reading

poor fish

A one-act play.

“A walk in the park becomes an earnest spiral of naive morality when a mother and her young daughter happen on a fisherman.”

THE SCENE
A suburban park surrounding a lake, during a mild day in early-Spring. Present Day.

THE CAST
A Man, 60s, spending his day fishing.
A Girl, under 10, who happens upon him.
Her Mom, late-20s/early-30s, her guardian.

*

LIGHTS UP. A MAN stands alone off to stage-left, facing away from the audience, casting off with an imaginary fishing rod. There are sounds of a public park: birds; wind; and the resting of water. There is a bench beside the man and on top rests his backpack, a cooler, and some other miscellaneous items: he is set up to be standing there for the day.

ENTER a little GIRL, clad in a one-piece rainsuit, jumping on-stage from stage-right into imaginary puddles with her yellow boots. Her MOM follows her. The girl is singing a little song.

MOM
Honey, don’t go off too far!

GIRL
I won’t!

The girl circles back to Mom. Near her, the girl falls on her bum. Mom helps her up.

MOM
Good thing we bought you this rainsuit!

GIRL
Mom, I’m going to be all wet!

MOM
You won’t. It’ll be like magic.
Stand here a second. Watch that man.

They watch the fisherman.

Continue reading