The Encounter

What I am now
is all thanks to
A silly cow
roaming the fields
beneath the sun.
I approached him
and asked him
how he could be
so, so silly.
With a small gleam
in his cow eye
he told me that
I should murder
my parents, chop-up their limbs
and bury the remains in different locations and then flee
to Mexico with enough money to bribe the authorities and anyone else.

While he spoke
I realized that
dinnertime neared,
so I went back
home, and never


Written for Right2Write Prompt#7: Flowers and Cattle

Image courtesy of Under the Skies of Arkansas.

I made love to Bukowski

It took him six tries
to get it up. His penis
was somewhat
defective. His body
was a greasy blob
and after he came,
he vomited on the bed
and kicked me out,
threw a bottle at my head
but missed terribly.

and when he died
I defecated
all over his face. Seriously,
fuck that guy.

Based on actual events.


A cattle of assholes. They stare not knowing,

understanding very little, obsessed

with their jobs and how “great” their lives are.

It’s easy to scowl and jeer at those different

when you’re all the same. I don’t need

a relationship when I have total control

over space. Only certain things matter,

and I’ve found them all in a single place,

flashing with life. People will pass, only a few

understand, but even fewer will ever see

what I truly am.


People pass into the folds of something

without recognizing your insignificance.

You’re bold in the manly multitude

of pale Bogarts blocking the soda machine,

feigning evolutionary perfection behind

a bag of Cheetos. A spirit of confidence

unleashes into an argument

over whether Star Wars is science fiction,

or fantasy, and the girls don’t matter

when you hide within an army of Titans

fighting evil on an empty battlefield.