swimming pool (a short play

edgar walks out into a clearing where there is a table and two seats. he sits down at the table and spits on his hand. benvolio trips on his way to edgar's table and takes a seat. they stare at each other while adjusting their crotches.

benvolio: hi.

edgar: hey.

benvolio finishes bumbling his bump first.

edgar: so, you still want to go to this today?

benvolio: i do, but i have to pee.

edgar: well go piss then.

benvolio stands up and takes two steps from the table and relieves himself on stage.

edgar: knock knock.

benvolio zips up and remains standing.

benvolio: ok.

edgar: i was never able to do that thing with your hand and your armpit where you squish them together and make fart sounds. the little fat kids in all the movies i watched as a kid could do it and they looked cool, but i can't make my armit fart for shit.

edgar spits on his hand again and sticks it in his armpit.

benvolio: you look like a bird who broke it's wing.

edgar: hold on i think i got it.

benvolio: sometimes i go into public bathrooms and make people think i jack it in public.

edgar is still trying to make fart noises.

edgar: that's gross.

benvolio: no no it's really fun. just grab the side of your cheek, where it's loosest, and pull it away from your mouth back and forth really fast.

benvolio jiggles his cheek rappidly.

benvolio: you hear that! well you walk into a bathroom stall when you know someone else is in there, preferably more than one, and you do that while groaning a little here and there. once you know that you've gotten their attention, go 'AHHH' orgasmically and spit on the ground. not like hocking spit; dribble it out and froth your saliva so it's nice and white. it's a hoot!

edgar: fuck it, i'm never gonna be able to make farting noises.

benvolio farts.

edgar: ew.

benvolio: i sat on a duck.

CURTAIN.

..positive.. a short play

a poem for the week

for the week

you are measly and grinning
but not unperfectly happy,
wishing that you had thirty dollars
to buy Tony Little's
Micropedic Body Pillow because
he says it's cool. not cool as in it's hip,
but because it's just not temperature-hot
and you want it anyways.
you gawk at the compartments and
the number sixty million
because this is your head we are talking about
for Christ's sake.
this is your spine.

i hit my head against a
rock for five hours today
with my eyes open
and my hands to my side
while maintaining a steady rate of breathing
and i swear
it was the best sleep i ever had.

we wait and we wait and
we wait and we
wait and
we
wait and we wait and we
wait and we wait
and we
wait and we
wait and
we wait.

you told me to put olive oil
on my plants to keep the bugs off
because you are hippie-esque in your green ways
and your love-thy-earth mantra
never sounds not hollow enough.
pesticides kept bugs off my plants.
olive oil not only did not keep bugs off my plants,
it fucking killed my plants.
what is less righteous? i just wish
my plants didn't die.

so this guy walks into
a store and sees his girlfriend and
screams, "DO YOU WANT ME TO BREAK UP WITH
YOU?!" the girl just smiles and hangs
up her phone and they don't talk
much after that. guy goes this way
girl goes that way. no one except
the two of them could really
actually care. both guy and girl
become depressed and guy overdoses
on ambien when girl cuts her arms.
the story isn't tragic. they
thought it was, but it's just
stupid and a waste of time and life.

we wait and wait.

we pull out lunch meat and cheese at
seven in the morning and leave it out at
room temp until two in the afternoon.
then we put everything back in the fridge
and we do it all over again tomorrow.
come eat our breakfast sandwiches.

a blind man said to me the other day:
"last night a beautiful woman
came up to me and said, 'i can give you
super sex.'"
i stared at him blankly like
his glazed eyes looked out the
window.
"i turned to her," he said still
looking out the window,
"and i said, 'thank you, but
i'll just take the soup."

shalvayshon-we-theenk

poo poo

i am so avant garde

da d ance

when you dance i dance when he dances we dance when you dance when i dance when you dance when we dance then he dances when you dance when i dance in the first coast

eyebooger

what,happens,when,you,getnaked,online

tytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytytyty

dark ojera

(troothache)

rememberthiswagerquestionmark;;swayt boi! oice r-ad

beckevolute

it is hard for a man to work steadfastly when his work can mean no more than the digestive noises, wind-breakings, and cries of dinosaurs - noises now silenced forever

2-ju

valentin~geist~loodeedoo

finityman

stingray@thetemple