msstormageddonrulerofall:

aksjdhfalkjsdhflakn

(via mechromance)

crunchyyy:

mollylover:

tastefullyoffensive:

9 Cats Taking Selfies

This is my favorite post on the entire Internet

6th pic tho

Incidental-accidental Birth Mother

you’re at that age where we say
there’s nothing we can do
ignore it there’s nothing we can do
all interpersonal engagement not suspended—but cancelled—all
evolution of mutuality busted down to
“there’s nothing we can do” 

there’s nothing you can do here
for or to anyone

you’re at the stage where we resolve
to write you off as a human being:
now you’re an elephant
now you’re an albatross
now you’re a wild beast
now you’re a bear
now you’re a sleeping dog
now you’re a sleeping lion
now you’re a female dog on occasion
now you’re an isolated bit of genitalia
now you’re beyond your original location
now you’re just like a person of your gender
now you’re invariable
now you’re at the peak of your growth as a person

as a collection of similar items, one or more items are permanently missing 

move along please there’s nothing to see

Mother-of-the-law

you let us know
when we’re not setting our shoes down properly
on the mud tray:
heel to heel, toe to toe, symmetrically in line.  
you’re kind enough to restack the plates in the cupboard
after we’ve already put them away.
you don’t want to hurt my feelings
so you say “i’m worried about the tea stains.”
you say, “do you know where the fill line on the coffee maker is?”
you say, “i like to Vim the countertop twice a week.”
you educate us
on the value of the ground glass-and-granite composite
countertop.
“this countertop is our retirement fund.
get your cup
off of it.”

much touted poetry genius passes out in the listening position at Calgary reading 

Poem for April 25th #2
wilcke’s birthday poem

poem in the key of “I”

i
hate poems 
that begin
with “i”

i endeavour to write
poems
in the key of “canada”
for the nation

oh

if tomorrow starts
without me
i will have failed
to call the art therapy hotline

i will have succumbed
to the flaring gas well
of the gut
while dialling the number

shall i
fail
to call it

i 
will have ate and painted
painted eating

and will have
used art 
to achieve my employment goals
because it’s not like
i’m making any money
with poems beginning with “i”

and will have
exercised my right 
to visual art
the right
to smile
while standing next to a tree

leastwise or lastwise this national poet
has a birthday

oh

Poem for April 25th

“…and don’t give up because at last we will succeed after the hardship of writing poems” - accidental inspirational saying from a student exam mined out of academic industrial holdings by Ryan Fitzpatrick

and don’t give up because at last we will succeed after the hardship of writing poems

and don’t give up because at last the diet will succeed after the hardship of reading all those texts obsessively while being sedentary

and don’t give up on day 18 with 12 days left to go because at last we will succeed with quantity over quality after the hardship of writing poems

and don’t give up although one’s criticisms of jian gnomeshi (sic)  go misunderstood and poorly cited because at last the links will expire and anyone with the gumption to follow through will check references

and don’t give up because at last middlebrow culture will be as captivating as it is currently lucrative and boring

and don’t give up because at last even the worst player gets a hole-in-one

and don’t give up because-with any luck-at last the sins of the father will be covered by credit card balance insurance

and don’t give up because at last we will receive justice for the trolling on our youtube page’s comments

and don’t give up because at last the first stanza can begin with “I” and move into blind assumptions about shared knowledge as a limitation of I-ness

and don’t give up because poetry is at last a bad way to express individuality being that it uses all those words

and don’t give up because at last getting a screwed up facelift Bold and the Beautiful style is a better way to express one’s individuality given that everyone has a face but fewer people have a codpiece stuffed into their chins than they have words

Poem for April 24th

suburban:

sub
urban

basement living in woodbine:

sub
sub 
urban

i don’t:

have much
philosophical
real estate
prepared for the after
life

sub:
with regular 
exposure

under:
reductionist
holedigging

Poem for April 23rd

oyster-world’s worth of pearly cigarette butts
ipads for mom
negotiate lot exit crowds for convenient throughway
nowadays info on everyone’s mouthpiece online
nowadays bleeds out its “a” nowdays
quality over quantity lipservice scheme initiated
by professional quantity over quality guy
scientistic graph yields true knowledge
about advancements in human culture contributions
dickheads’ docksides continue swelling via “gay science” participation
that unity of singer, knight, and free spirit distinguishes wonderful early culture from equivocal cultures’ current crap
the now of being youth supervised by aging marketers and their banks
legendary and fresh, classic and new

Poem for April 22nd

a few

poem-holes left open for a posteriori collecting
of prosterioriori poems
into a bound paper volume that’s a bit reserved
and theoretically at the point of collapse and try to keep going
into the gutter and margin knocked up by a priori three staples
and if he isn’t in the room and you’re experiencing him in your body
then that’s not normal, and you have to make it up for yourself
and send it into the world, at which time you study and prepare
to run for office