stand at your full adult height
and tell me what you are thinking about right now
(fuck my soft-shelled body)
i am an evil and unnatural person
sucking on your god-given ears —
will you let us watch you in the woods?
let’s party until the yard sales open
(drill deep into my consciousness
drill deep into my soft-shelled body)
i want to neck you and jane eyre under that bridge
we are in the teenage era of the millennium
and i have already necked jamison
i wish i were more interesting and i wish i were dead
how can i best fool you into thinking i have sophisticated tastes?
please complete the survey
and enter for a chance to win a picture of my elbow that looks like my butt
on a scale of 1-10
how impressed are you by my usage of the subjunctive “were”
is my obsessive nail biting a charming quality? please describe!
by Marianna Hagler
spend time with me
spend time tangling my hair and
complimenting my more adorable neuroses
wikihow said this would probably happen
re: my out-of-body experiment
(yawn to find my eyes
anything but smoky)
don’t look at me
don’t talk to me
don’t touch me or breathe
don’t remind my body that your body is
alive and trembling
if we were rational animals, we’d be enjoying ourselves as much as that coked-up guy in jean shorts playing “holland, 1945” by the corner
but we have put away childish things
we have renamed our playlists “shit we liked in high school” on spotify
it’s sad. i am 18 tomorrow & still can’t understand the world’s subtler machinations
but hell, william james could only understand hegel under the influence of nitrous oxide
none of that is really important right now.
i’ve decided that the only important things to think about are the things that make me happy
like or share if you agree
i want you to call me out for the dumb things i say in front of the entire Whole Foods parking lot
i’m ready to face God
i want all my past deeds to be judged and then receive a bullet-pointed Quality Improvement Report from the Divine
i want you to imagine a teenage william james inhaling whippits before reading hegel
now imagine him furtively returning the unusable Whip-It bottles to the family refrigerator before his parents find out
if you think this is funny i think we will be friends
only if we all get to be groomspeople and also there is cake
That’s just battered blue baggage dangling
Off the ivory cocktower— or woodside cottage,
If that’s your thing— so size up boys and lets
Take our time.
I check the cock of time and
See George tall with false teeth, Tommy in pomp
With fur coat, and even old Franky balding behind self-made spectacles and
Ruler in hand marking on the walls their exact size. Exact is the word I use too
Because it makes me feel better and sound approximate. So exact stands tall—
Or maybe small, if that’s your thing— and they too size up to find a disproportionate with
Honest Abe who shows up at the last possible second with an American Bulldog hanging from his
Ivory cocktower totally obscuring any proper base to tip measurement.
What do you call that baggage?
But Mary Todd breaks up the dispute by whipping out her own and saying,
“Well what do you think happens when your husband sleeps with other men at night and by day
Leads a country divided? It all converges right here, right into this, that’s what happens!”
And the clock stops.
I start again and find more men: we got Eddie Poe and Ralph Wal-wal-TO THE WALLS-Waldo and of course Homeboy Thoreau and one’s talking
About how it’s only because he couldn’t quite settle on the God thing and another one’s talking
About what opium REALLY does to the system and another one is talking
About his current base to tip problem based on that neckbeard that is definitely choking that chicken.
That bastard Melville waltzes in poor, starving, abjectly abandoned, and mightily moving through the room.
He is the one who laughs.
They all know about the size of his Dick. A clear winner. No one can top that by any base to tip calculation.
And I finish checking the clock to come to my own cock and I see
Its shriveled, scared because of the big world— but mostly not too big at this point— and the ever reaching
Hand hoping to find the right measurement.
Anonymous: (i am sloth city's biggest fan)
we’re yours too, babe
I lost sight of you when the floor swallowed me whole and I was
Left to look up over the globs of hair rolling around and laughing because
You took the vacuum cleaner with you
Out the door-
The only thing I could do was untangle myself from the strands of carpet and
Ask them what they thought about it before they began to chant the
Last thing you said, “It’s best if I just take this and leave”
Like what does that have to do with the car you stole and drove off
Into the river when I tried to clean them up
Why is it me who is lying on this damn floor when I didn’t do anything that was
do u like what u see ??
You are looking at Orion’s Belt
made of zits
on my chin.
You are the waffle in me
when i am feeling OK.
right now i am not feeling OK.
i am the waffle house fake butter.
Rap Videos are the only thing
propping up my brain-canvas,
and you are the only one sending me links to Rap Videos.
I am thirsty and alone,
popping cashews in the club
because I can’t afford a drink.
also I brought the cashews
White celestial night we ran around
Cutting the curbs
Scratching the bugs in our ears
So we could hear the voices miles behind
A pitch different and we streaked back
To where they stood under the stars
Throwing down the beers and running hands
Through our hairs standing on end
Out across black fields, endless, I loved this moment more than anymore
Until you called my name and again fell in love with that moment all the same
by marianna hagler
yeah sometimes i do check your facebook profile
i sort of miss you so what
if you don’t want me looking at you
why did you set everything on your profile
to “public” huh yeah that’s what i thought
i bet you look at mine too
or you would—
but mine’s set to “friends only”
and some of it is even “only me”
i am a private person
(you are playing sid meier’s
civilization v right now and
i am sad eating
what we have built on
has swallowed us up;
the fig tree decayed
and the deck bent past breaking,
the bushes now grown
past their old overgrowth,
marble saints buried
and glazed in red clay
the ground that predates us
returns to its origin,
to unconscious growth
to a vast cycle’s end;
payment for some great ancient sin
by Jared McSwain
i am alive and you are alive and the sun just broke the horizon
and the wind is whipping and the heat is sweltering
and somewhere President Obama is standing naked in the shower
or outside on the designated smoking area patio of the White House with a Cowboy Killer so lets go do something while we are ecstatically breathing