Looney Tunes
Written for a writing activity. Summer 2005.
Bugs Bunny!
What’s up with your teeth yo?
You be chomping on these purple carrots
like it ain’t no thang!
Wha wha what’s up Doc?
You be showing that Elmer Fudd
ain’t no ghetto superstar
with your schemes
and it’s tricky – uh huh – it’s tricky.
Exclamations of -
I taught I saw a puddy cat -
I did! I did!
warns you of Fudd’s chronological mistakes
Cuz Bugs is a balla! Shock calla!
He may stumble but that ain’t falling
He just brushes it off
and keeps on performing those
facetious
fillibustering
feats.
Elmer has nothing on this rabbit.
He be chomping on carrots and
Fudd still tripping over Bugs’ traps.
His big teeth can never be chipped
cuz he still be spinning those 20 inch carrots
like it ain’t no thang.
Fudd can only holla
I wish I could be just a lil bit talla
cuz penisheads are whack and
Bugs just can’t handle that.
He be saying -
the day I saw it cried
was the day I almost died.
Cuz you know Bugs’ really has a big heart
He just don’t want no solider hunting him down.
Sunset Ceilings
Written on 8-20-07.
I had a dream about you.
I wanted to paint my ceiling of a sunset
to always remind me of you
My subconscious made me cry
for us, for me,
for something my conscious self won’t allow.
I want to say…
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for those unspoken words.
I’m sorry for the spoken ones too.
I’m sorry I can’t wake up next to you.
I’m sorry that I can’t touch you again.
I miss you.
I miss you so much that it fucking hurts.
So much,
my insides are between a rock and a hard place
squeezed.
I want to cry when I hear random love and lost songs on the radio
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where to begin and and where to end.
I love you.
in my own sickly masochistic way
in my own insecure tender way.
I love you.
And yes it was real.
It was so fucking real that I wish it was a dream
One that leaves you awake
One that still lingers
One that creates longing.
But to know that all it was…
was a dream
So I can let it pass.
You, it, me, us, you
were more real than my badly skinned knee
more real that my mom’s spicy sate fun soup
more real than these mosquito bites
more real than mint chocolate ice cream
more real than the sunsets that remind me of you
more real than this pain that cripples me.
Now, I’m up past the midnight hour
Working on your CD
This masochistic process is helping me deal.
I love you.
I hope to see you in my dreams tonight.
The only appropriate place.
