The Mezunian

Lies in wait—bacon cheese sandwich,growing cold. Its owner,hungry, only sleeps.

Yes, I have the sadness, ‘side my flavorless tea & headache cheese crackers; but it’s not the sadness I had before, & that’s what most matters. That was left on the gray beaches o’ summer chills, wandering & pretending I was knowing & did science, when nobody invited me to be taught to grow gills. […]

Not e’en spring—a thousand parked cars;lonely nights.

I'm kidding. No I'm not. I'm proud o' my scrumptious misery. You covet my sorrow like a salty snow cone. You wish you could feel the fresh sting I feel in my chest, the heftiness in my limbs, the fuzzy ache in my brain muscles. Well, you can't have any o' it. It's mine. I […]

Accompanying music. Winter night—fog smothers the starsclear full moon.

…it’s the work I put into it. …it’s the money I get for it. …it’s the money I pay for it. …it’s all ’bout the results. …it’s the thought that counts. …it can’t just come from nothing. …it’s all within me. …it’s what I don’t already have. …it comes from mass production. …it 1 o’ […]

A Marxist & an Austrian-schooler walk into a bar, & after chugging 20 KG o’ ale, the Austrian goes to use the loo for an hour. ‘Pon coming out, he holds a glass o’ urine & says to the Marxist, “I’ve spent an hour laboring to create this pee. Since it clearly has labor, you […]

You thought I was gone. But you were wrong. You thought I was gone-- but I always come back. Just when you think you can slide back in your easy bed, fed on the cream o' fulfilled dreams... that's when I strike. I'm your AIDS. I ne'er go 'way. & if you go near that […]

¿Dónde está la luna? Debiste mirarla cuando puedas. Está leja para siempre y no regresará nunca. ¿Where’s the moon? You should’ve watched it when you could. It’s gone ‘way fore’er & will ne’er come back.

& all the pulsing itchiness— No, I speak not o’ those moldy hinges on which your spoilt rattling paint cans grip. I speak o’ mo’: a rainbow jungle whose palms o’erbrimmed with crisp crisps— that’s how I spelt it; it’s Britican without the sharp-edged can openers. You think salt water can’t be fresh. You think […]