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The sea lies charted, The Earth is mapped; I am the statue, erect I am the President-elect of Sleep I am the Emperor of Naps ("Make way, make beds for His Royal Highness of Naps!") (Long petals

my dentist doesn't consider it sexual harassment to explore my cavities he does a very thorough job with the penetrations, professionally and without innuendo

listen you, about a dream I had it was silly, really it was filthy, surely it was colored poorly, alas, but it had violence and lust and sex and Bloombergian sugary drinks and sheep's wool latex I was

nice boat (blue sea) who you think you think like, tech VC? what, you're like. . . early investor in some startup disaster? making money by putting money in thing that needs money to make more money but

i adore paint all day long i paint long long shadows you know an artist when he is paint-covered from head to salami (I'm painting a sandwich) please go away I am trying to concentrate and you're like

you're such a riot. he says: i went back to Canada, to be with the woman I loved at the time "at the time?" "at the time!" the peanut gallery senses a story; "at the time! at the

they say that if you beet your woman you love her they say, looking over the purple manger there is strangeness in all recipes lest she partake of the beets of a stranger with a little balsamic vinaigrette

acquire a dollar one million times there is nothing in trees they are just skin poop, poop say a thing that rolls off your tongue the dog is quiet, the dog is sad your body golden-retrieved from ocean

this poem is shit although it seems fit to be in this category my language brings glory and perpetual happiness.

United, we can be shittier than any one of us alone. The abortion below is a shout-out to all you people who have years of experience with the deep meaningfulness of office culture. My condolences.

We need to get this badpoetry tag going. Here's another one - prepare for the worst. A Modest Confession I am slightly passive-aggressive today, I think. It is not about what you said Thursday around 7:00

when I am not looking it's clicking and blinking (ode to computers) what are we thinking? I am a basket case, watching Netflix todos los dias! I had a reverie, that Charlie Chaplin put his first fist through

this is the poem that's going to blow up (like ISIS Chinatown on Ramadan New Year) in short, the one that will     put me on the map this is the poem which will feed all grandchildren everywhere this is

I put my clothes, stupidly, into a Washington machine when they came home, in a bag, they were nobody's clothes. the streets of our nation's capital are traces of the snuggles of power; George: perfumed,

feeble witch thumbs around your blackberry, choking computer illiterate like watching grandma struggle with two-factor authentication i will one day die but why today?

this isn't a haiku the man across from me has a beard, oh, Brooklyn

most elegant creature a turtle is not where is the bathroom? the turtle forgot! I spent $400 on this Persian knit now there's a turtle imprinted in it

you eat illiterate shit all day they don't know Shakespeare from pear shakes but you are so crucial let me put a love letter into your womb your little blue eagle stuck in a parallelogram will race across

my neighbor is sexy I want her body she flew off her pedestal (she's very clumsy)