Archive for March, 2010

Becoming My Bondservant Will Solve All Your Problems

March 24, 2010

Become my bondservant.  Shut up, just do it.

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Wear a name tag that says “Bondservant” 24 hours a day.  Forget your name because your former identity is dead.  You are Bondservant.

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Train three miniature horses to bring me Tostitos when I ring a porcelain bell decorated with hand-painted fish I bought five years ago at a gift shop in Florida.

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Mourn the loss of your freedom.

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Become unable to mourn after I threaten to disembowel you for feeling emotions.

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Cover your hands in liquid chocolate and caress my neck and breasts in a dimly lit room.  Be initially unwilling.  Be disturbed and enthralled by your resulting erotic dreams.

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Remember the Titans.

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Convert to my religion and erase all previous trace of philosophical influence from your mind.  Never think for yourself again.

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Make me the grilled sandwiches I like so much, the ones with roasted red peppers and chicken.  Don’t whine, just do it.

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Make a conscious decision to lay down your consciousness, which is ironic and maybe self-defeating in some way.

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Get me a strawberry milkshake now, dammit.

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Butterfly Lids

March 5, 2010

we fluid hominids are born at wishy-washy point seven water

content, butterfly wing eyelids blinkin’ and blinkin’ at all the

planets spinnin’ and stutters askin’ “why?” real quiet,

antennae lashes battin’ a perfect average, hittin’ a home run

every time.

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they’re gonna flake off and die, soon,

and we’ll all be starin’ at the sparkly fathoms

every hour of every day, gettin’ old.

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when I wake up it’s like I’ve been livin’ alone

in a bathroom stall my whole life, then I look

over the divider and bonk my head on the palm tree

growin’ outta the bowl, surrounded by bushes,

birds chirpin’ in the foliage.

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take the awful heavy things,

them feet stand on new dirt.

smile without teeth, real big.


i am the corpse reanimation your forefathers dreamt of in the desert

March 2, 2010

i have fantasies of getting hit by a bus or being diagnosed with cancer at a young age because I want to know who would be in my hospital room when I wake up or am dying.

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i bet lots of people have those fantasies.  i am predictable.

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today I told someone something I have never told anyone.  it wasn’t hard, at all.

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i am deep full happy when I read other people’s sadness not out of spite but because they understand things

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let’s repeat b words:  bird basket birth birdbaths boy scouts banana boat baklava bookcase basketballs

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birdbaths is my favorite b word from that list.

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if you talk really effin loud on the phone all the time become self-aware please so you are more quiet and i don’t leave dirty dishes on your bed