misener @ April 25, 2008 # 2 Comments
Wonderkids
by shawn misener
if you take a tennis ball
soak it in kool-aid
and implant it in a fresh loaf of wonderbread
you get something very special
and very disturbing
someone old and wise
or maybe just jeff goldblum
warned about fucking with nature
but fucking with mass production
can be even weirder
here’s what you get:
babies you can eat
babies you can drink
and babies you […]
misener @ March 17, 2008 # 7 Comments
smirk furrow and smile
by shawn misener
want to make money now?
sell your hairspray
your bag o’ cheetos
and your indefatigable soul
sell your words to the devil
your gonads to god
and your plants to the fire
cheese it up
in the meatball stew
that is your suburb
head south and
dip your dreams in queso
disinfect in clouds of cumin
and boil the water for bulimics
buy a […]
misener @ February 22, 2008 # 5 Comments
Lansing
by shawn misener
you’re a staunch tuna sandwich
a familiar mars bar
the drunk guy giving quarters to some floozy
at the end of the bar
you’re the reality
and the meth the billy brewed
in his moldy basement
you’re a dead dream
rolled up and decomposing
in the industrial park by the dam
oh melting molding city
you’ll forget me when I leave
and you’ll keep me […]
misener @ January 8, 2008 # 3 Comments
Hemispheric Terrorism
by shawn misener
There are places in this world bent
by terrible doubt and the disturbing
feeling that if you let your guard down
for one second the whole thing will
collapse around you, leaving you
dumbfounded in the ruins of your lifestyle.
Your family will disown you for your stupidity,
the bill collectors will scurry off with your couch,
your love will […]
misener @ November 27, 2007 # 5 Comments
Buk’s Dead Body
by shawn misener
Hank’s corpse, suspended over the room,
drips alcoholic blood on all of us.
It’s been up there for almost forty years
and someone should consider taking it down.
It stinks.
All I see around me are writers
imitating his corpse, wearing his
awful scent like it’s some expensive perfume.
It’s one thing to acknowledge his presence
over us, swinging […]
misener @ October 18, 2007 # 4 Comments
Laptop Sally
by shawn misener
it’s with fuzzy fingers
that I finger you
my love
I wait for you to come
and I twitch away
with fingers fuzzy
and brain looped on pot
maybe I’ll step out
and catch a parliament
on the ghetto porch
I guess I can wait
out there
in the cold
with the comfort of smoke
but when I return
I expect you to yield a good one
my […]
misener @ October 1, 2007 # 6 Comments
Go She Hi Gra O E (Pffffft)
by Shawn Misener
We are not safe
ever
We are the product of
salad shooters and
fried twinkies
We build foam walls
to keep the ethnics
out
We cringe vigilantly
at the turban-wearing
terrorists
(PFFFFFT)
We are the sum total
of our bad credit
our sexual partners
and our drink tabs
We love our children
though we don’t understand them
at all
We revere our ancestors
but where they came […]
misener @ August 22, 2007 # 2 Comments
the asterisk is not me, it’s steven wright
by Shawn Misener
In this world we are giants
puffed up with air
we bumble and bobble across the neon plains
in this world we have full-body tattoos of ourselves:
except taller
and with brighter colors*
in this world we talk to each other incessantly
and never meet
we ride on words like the rapture might be […]
misener @ August 15, 2007 # 4 Comments
Capital City Dream Opera
by Shawn Misener
This town is overpopulated
by weeble-wobbles and beanpoles
lesbian poets and straight strippers
day-glo starfish and black ferrets
stuffed into a tiny ziploc
and crammed between the cottage cheese
and gelled raspberry preserves
I sprayed red ink over the underpass
held tight to my skin
took in the yeastified air
next to the smokestacks made of wheat bread
Don’t stray too […]
misener @ June 28, 2007 # 6 Comments
This Is No Freakshow
By Shawn Misener
This is awful, but not awful enough.
A messy wound you could fit a canyon into
leaking clear juicy drops to the white sands.
You charged us five dollars for this?
I could’ve seen much worse for free
on my parents ultramodern laptop/fax/phone/espresso machine.
I could’ve ventured into the caves under the desert
and emerged with […]