Russell - B Is for Bad Poetry

B Is ForBad Poetry P AMELA A UGUST R USSELL New York/London
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2009 by Pamela August Russell
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Bud and Alice Travers
Sources confirm the woman who stole your heart has been arrested.

Police in Reno say she was disguised as a beautiful soul who would never hurt a fly. Detectives also say she is wanted in several other states for impersonating someone who actually gave a shit about you.

Your Honor, I had to cut off her legs to make sure she wouldnt come waltzing back into my life. God is dead. My mother a knife a getaway car. Try not to dream. Try not to dream.

Its futile and you might as well wish for the end of gravity. Be part of the herd. No one likes an original voice especially if its louder than theirs. Learn to live with irony and regret. Everyone knows its all we have left. Get used to your mortality.

It will eventually consume you so why not pick up an addiction. Dont bother getting out of bed. The world is crowded enough without you and your big ideas.

Look, said Hitler to Hess, I made Himmler a cake for his birthday. Mmm, so moist and fluffy, said Hess, and it practically baked itself! For Richard Brautigan, who couldnt be with us It wasnt until after I poured the second cup that I realized I was alone. You can have your cake and eat it too but dont let me catch you five minutes later in the bathroom with your finger down your throat. You disappear right before my eyes through a trap door in your soul. You disappear right before my eyes through a trap door in your soul.

Three weeks later while Im folding laundry you reappear in a haze of smoke holding the queen of hearts and ask, Is this your card?

I still look ridiculous no matter how much expensive makeup I put on every time you walk out the door. When one door closes another door opens onto a cliff. Sally sells seashells by the seashore as if people didnt know you could just go to the beach and find them yourself. I watched you fall in love again and couldnt help but laugh. If Picasso can turn his lover into a starfish Im sure I can turn you into _______________? Dont come any closer or Ill scream halt or Ill shoot everybody stay where you are stand back she could blow yes thats him, officer keep walking nothing to see here nobody move or the girl gets it right on the lips, pal. What you see is what you get what you see? Oh good, youre back.

Did you get the sausage like I asked? The spicy, Polish kielbasa? You forgot it? How could you? All I wanted was some damn sausage and I dont think Im asking much here! I even gave you a note it said, dont forget the sausage, and you forgot the sausage! This is so typical of you. This is unforgivable. This is... What Im trying to say is, Im in love with you.

Here lies, at the end of the drain A gray lock of hair dyed red Ill never quite know of its pain While tearing it from my head. Forget about writers block. Forget about writers block.

If its any consolation, even the typewriter is depressed.

Despair, party of one your table is ready Im sorry, my mistake actually its not itll probably be another forty-five minutes maybe more... Sorry. If life hands you a noose dont fret or whine theyll still cook your goose in a matter of time the Earth wont stand still the Sun wont implode just sign the damn will while they lock and load when the hairdryers ready to drop in the bath with their hands nice and steady well, you do the math keep your fingers crossed and with any luck by the time youre gone you wont give a fuck. I should sell my broken heart on the open market in Europe or Asia fill up my empty cavity with gold bars, diamonds and yen maybe then youd take stock of how much we lost. Looks like a pump, feels like a sneaker. Looks like a pump, feels like a sneaker.

Looks like a pump, feels like a sneaker.

Of all the watches melting on branches Of all the splattered canvases in Montauk Of all the soup cans that came before you Of all these fragments I have shored against these ruins. Of all the errant knights in search of chivalry, David Foster Wallace doesnt want to be here anymore. Photographer: The girl in the burlap dress looks uncomfortable. Assistant: Probably because no one is talking to her. No one will ever know you were the worst kisser in the world.

Even if they put a gun to my head and force me to say it in a poem.

Its not the vagina dentata Im worried about, he said. Its just that you havent been brushing and flossing. Once she faked an orgasm and didnt tell me for three years. She calls me from L.A. Paul is dead and Im pretty darn sure I am the eggman. Existentialism can be applied to anything. Existentialism can be applied to anything.