Tuesday, May 19, 2009



657 words


Poetry, to me, is

Like that bird I saw on the way down here

Flying into the wind

It seems to be going nowhere


It’s blue?

A way

A better way

An escape

Better than the alternatives

Better than most alternatives

Better than the news

Better than reality

Open for interpretation




A motherfucker left of the switch

April showers may bring flowers

If I have anything to do with it



Can’t stand on a hill of ice

Will stand against a new world order

Would be awful in brail


It just

Made me realize how alone I was

When I heard all the others outside

When I was so secure in here alone with my poem


Brett Favre throwing

An ally-oop to Michael Jordan

Slamming a long drive while Tiger Woods rips

Michael Phelps’ bong



Nothing until a few months ago

I was asunder by its power

I’ve never used the word asunder

So I had to do it before I died

Trying to make sense

Of the nonsensical

Enjambments that I love so much

Thank you Tim



Makes me

Say ‘holy cats’

I wanna go rustlin’

I’ve never done it before

And that’s the whole point

I wanna be the new guy

Like the new guy in the movies

Who tries real hard

And gets guff from the seasoned vets

But he proves himself in the end

Shows them what he’s made of


Make me

Wanna be the new guy

Like in the movies


Why does that guy only exist in the movies?


Made me

Change my name to Alexander Trucutt

Cause I dreamed that name in a dream once

So this journal now belongs to

Alexander Trucutt

Life is kinda like a journal don’t you think?

Kinda funny



What I want to spend my time on

But my obligations demand all my time

All the while all my time really wants

To do is write


I couldn’t remember her name once

So I called her Katie

That wasn’t her name

But she fucked me anyways


My girlfriend wouldn’t like that too much

She thinks she owns me and my parts

I guess


But Say Anything

Is amazing

Say Anything

For the silent


This whole song just kinda hangs up in the air

About fourteen feet about the heads of listeners

Just out of reach but not impossible to grasp

If one were to climb high enough to reach it


I’m convinced that the entire world is populated by retards


At least ninety percent of those retards are retarded anyways


I’m broke

Have no food

Do have a job however

And a place to sleep

But I only have enough light to read by that the sun can provide

People are calling me everyday wanting my money

No shower curtain

I need a haircut

Among many other necessities

But all in all I’m content


A poem by Zach, a student at the daycare I work at

The sun is so bright

From morning to noon

Then we get the pleasure

Of seeing the moon


Good shit

There’s more


The sun is shining in our eyes

It makes it hard when you go inside

The trees bring me joy

Ever so much more than my favorite toy


We were outside when he though of these

I helped him with the rhyming and wordage

But he did the grunt work


Then I was inspired…


I can see why the smell of flowers would attract a bee

The smell of a flower just attracted me

Yet I promised a flower of the reddest color

That I wouldn’t enjoy the scent of another

This flower was so slender and yellow

This new flower I couldn’t resist its allure

This tall blonde flower with excitement and charm

This beautiful thing would most likely wilt in my arm


My sexual exploits

I turn into poetic fodder

All these beautiful women

Seem to make it all better

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