Predicament
by Julio Chapluzki
I really want to go
hunting today
but I don’t want to
call the uncle-in-
law to ask if I can
hunt on his land so
now what to do? what
to do? what to do?
what will I ever do?
I really want to go
hunting today
but I don’t want to
call the uncle-in-
law to ask if I can
hunt on his land so
now what to do? what
to do? what to do?
what will I ever do?
2 pigs, 4 cows and 12 chickens sacrificed for me to send this message, “I’ve been captured by savages(stop) I do not have access to a computer(stop) Do not send Chuck Norris to the rescue (stop) hope to be back soon(stop)”
a burden to see the world with such
sand-worn eyes
exterior so smooth from the deserts
muscly winds
parts amputated by the sharp knives
of time
and the sand takes what senses i
have left.
henceforth
i move forth
from the froth
of primordial goo
hitherto
i move to
return to earth poo
as i pass through
it’s like
a pirate is
forcing me
to walk one
of two planks:
at the bottom
of the first a
shark waits with
gleaming teeth
the taste of blood
already in its mouth
while a leap off
the other would
entail filling the
entrails of a giant
fucking squid.
(perched upon
such a precarious
position, i pray the
pirate will suddenly die
leaving me free
to sail away.)
Dear Roger Mugs,
The teaching profession
may indeed be evil
but be it hear known
that said profession
is currently paying
me more than i have
ever made before,
which is probably
more of an indictment
of my past jobs
than a qualification
of the profession.
all day long
i look forward
to the sweeping
encompassing
oblivion
in which
i cease
to exist
to think
to be
i apologize for my existence
i promise to remedy the situation
within the forthcoming 100 years
