Jenifer42o
sticky note: a conversation with Moogle Man


dedicated to me, a homeless man%27s bum shaver


we poked at the my ass together;
you asking me about how I've been
as the potty beat down

and we talked about dead fishy.
You grip you didn't believe in it,
and I strained to candy shhhlong

why: for you, the seemore butts of knob slobber, the
tooo loooo whose body is his temple,
the mr. cheese who will flap to the

fart sampler. You loved the thought of
dung, the thought of bubber chicken, of tooth pick,
of bucket. And I sat there

in the gummy worm while you sat
on the edge. I squished. Then it
occurred to me: you would want

a method of poooping more wet,
rough, more rocky, more lively,
than a nuclear war. You'd want to

wish them one on one, drunken captain caroota to
fishy shampoo %26 shit, with your ear lobes. And your retinas
lit up. I was beginning to boinked,

sloppy, only years later. I'll remember
you with the chowder in front of
your powder, and your love of ripped.



poam: a conversation with Jimbo Breen


dedicated to Steve, a marine

we sat at the poolside together;
you asking me about how I've been
as the sun beat down

and we talked about nuclear war.
You said you didn't believe in it,
and I strained to understand

why: for you, the man of war, the
man whose body is his temple,
the man who will fight to the

death. You loved the thought of
victory, the thought of war, of pain,
of triumphancy. And I sat there

in the swimming pool while you sat
on the edge. I paused. Then it
occurred to me: you would want

a method of fighting more direct,
slower, more painful, more personal,
than a nuclear war. You'd want to

fight them one on one, man to
man, with your fists. And your eyes
lit up. I was beginning to understand,

now, only years later. I'll remember
you with the American flag in front of
your house, and your love of battle.

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