The Den

WRITTEN BY MAX

John Donne: The original hipster asshole.

So I’ve been debating on whether or not to include what I’m about to include on here.  I know people generally like the shit we write, even if they find fault in the ideas or don’t agree with the side we take, and that is, frankly, spectacular.  But I’m trying to think of a way to increase content but I don’t want said content to suffer, either.  Conversely, I have in the past written a lot of poems and short stories, and never had any of them published.  So I was thinking I might publish some of them on here.  In doing this, if you have absolutely no interest in reading stupid old poetry that’s okay.  I’ll always put it under a jump so if you just like the silly photos we do or want to skip over it entirely, you will have the option.  But for anyone who does want to read whatever messed up shit I’ve written, then by all means, have at it by clicking through.

Some of these will be poems, and some will be ideas I got for re-writing a song to a current event.  I’m poor at most things, but for whatever reason I can throw down current event lyrics over old music like nobody’s business.  I also have a few short stories and if I decide to put any of those up here, well, then you will have yet another reason to form a strong dislike for me.

Anyway, If you like it let me know, and if you hate it let me know.  I don’t really have any expectations.  I’ll set them all up the same way – a brief description and then I’ll put the title, and then a jump so if you are coming to it from the main page you won’t be able to see the poem.  If you link to it from Facebook or Twitter it will take you straight there, and then you have to decide what you want to read and not read.  Luckily, almost all of my poems are short and are either about girls or stereotypes or processed meats.  So we have the going for us, which is *maybe* nice.

I’m going to call this feature “The Den.”  May God have mercy on us all.  Everyone who gets that joke should probably make a habit of reading.

Today I’m going to post two really old poems I wrote but they both make me laugh.  One is just about grammar and the other one is about Kevin Bacon and my old college town.  I haven’t read either of these in years, but I got to thinking, this Kevin Bacon one is a pretty good reflection of a lot of the stupid shit going on in America.  I mean, that’s a little lofty, but you can see the parallels between a packing house college town from ten years ago and Jersey Shore, Teen Mom, and race relations today.

Anyway, here they are.  One last note, I will put a set of four or five dashes around each poem so you know when it starts and when it ends.  Some of the shit I have written is pretty weird and not always just line by line, so when you see a second set of dashes, you know it’s done.

——

ONLY

I hit him in the eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch
Only I hit him in the eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch
I only hit him in the eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch
I hit only him in the eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch
I hit him only in the eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch
I hit him in only the eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch
I hit him in the only eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch
I hit him in the eye only yesterday and punched him in the crotch
I hit him in the eye yesterday only and punched him in the crotch
I hit him in the eye yesterday and only punched him in the crotch
I hit him in the eye yesterday and punched only him in the crotch
I hit him in the eye yesterday and punched him only in the crotch
I hit him in the eye yesterday and punched him in only the crotch
I hit him in the eye yesterday and punched him in the only crotch
I hit him in the eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch only
I hit him in the eye yesterday and punched him in the crotch

——

Ha.  My favorite two lines are when I hit him in the Only Eye and Only Crotch.  Ha.

Here’s the next one.

One of my favorites.

This one is called Kevin Bacon

——

Kevin Bacon

If Kevin Bacon came to Storm Lake, the first thing he would see
Would be
The people of different races
And hopefully he wouldn’t care so much that they were not all white
It is all right
If they are different
But the part that boils my blood about this town, and the part that would
Get Kevin
Is the smell
Not just the smell of factories and cars and dead animals and packing plants
But of diversity
And prejudice
Because in this footloose town there is an undercurrent of harsh feelings not just
With the whites
Or with the Mexicans
Or with the Laos folks or the Chinese or the African American people
Mr. Bacon would
See a town
Where arguments and controversy run deep but where no one wants to do
Anything at all
About anything at all
Yes, Kevin would see a place where babies are disposed of in the literal sense
And cops are hollow men
And the bars are meat markets
Smelling almost worse than the sweet and sour shit smell emanating from IBP
On the south side
And the east side
Of the plant located right next to a meat market of human flesh where Mr. Bacon
Could pick up
A local girl
And whether or not she was clean as the air turning the windmills or as dirty
As the water
In the lake
It would not matter because pussy is pussy to Kevin Bacon and in this town
The only thing tasting
Worse than local pussy
Is the KFC located near the IBP which kills meat next to the meat market
That deals
In human flesh
Which is by the lake by the road leading to the college which is the only reason
Mr. Kevin Bacon
Would ever come
To this god-forsaken cultural milkshake that I so fondly refer to as home

——

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~ by maxaverage on January 26, 2012.

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