Me Too Night at Love Shovel Ranch Poem
for Jonathan Montgomery, inventor of Me Too Poetics, Marcus If, inventor of Love Shovel Ranch, and Jewel
Reality makes no sense to me!
Nothingness is just another shit bar
Death is a bad pick up line
I’m sorry about damn near everything!
I walk out the door most days
as if the morning was a goddamn arctic sled race
and somebody’s just murdered all my dogs
I’m always alone!
I find it almost impossible to talk to women I want to sleep with
and I find it almost more impossible to talk to the women I don’t
I haven’t slept in years!
and when I do sleep
I wake up every 45 minutes
because everything I’ve ever lost
haunts me and post all this leaving
I’m so goddamned broken
I find it impossible
to accept other people’s love
I watch people in love
like I’m watching a big budget
dinosaur movie that’s lost
its 3rd act
there’s no happy ending in which
some of the characters
make it through
to the end
everything’s pre and post shoe drop
the dangerous set up
followed by an endless
digital film parade
of chaos and extinct
monsters devouring everything individually
and prehistorical butt plugs
and rage-y type doom
I feel like my atoms
are held together with
dollar store duct tape
every time I’m required
to socialize
I’m so fucking lost!
the other day
I watched a bus leave a bird
behind at a bus stop because the bird
didn’t have correct change
or maybe it had change
but couldn’t carry it to the bus stop
in which case the bus left the bird
because it didn’t have pockets
and that’s a horrible reason
to leave something
but still a better reason
than most of us are given
we are
the pocket lonely
and left
I’ve never fucked
a ferris wheel
and this morning
I have to admit:
I regret this
Back in high school I once fooled around
with an older girl who went to Ferris College
but that’s not really the same thing
unless fucking a ferris wheel
is like making out with a girl who’d
just won first place in the college lip syncing contest
for looking exactly like the lead singer from Vixen
I’m so fucking pathetic!
When Tundji left town
he gave me all his porn
a small box of dvds
but when I watched it
it felt weird
jerking off to porn that Tundji’d
already jerked off to
it felt weird
like Marty McFly traveling all the way back in time
just to make out with his mom in Back To The Future
but in the end
I jerked off anyway
it was weird, but I jerked off
because what else
are we supposed to
do?
Last night I had a dream
I went to a football game
in the 1990’s
and ended up hanging out
with Mick Jagger
and we got drunk
and he promised to publish
my new novel
but then he sort of got distracted
by this enormous indoor tire swing
and I stood there thinking
gosh, his purple shirt is so shiny
and he seems to be enjoying that tire swing
so much
he’s probably already forgotten every promise
he’s ever said to me
I can’t compete with a tire swing
So,
So much for my book
The other night I was watching the movie
Interstellar for the 39th time
and I couldn’t stop thinking
It’s so unfair
nobody ever pays attention
to the kid in the movie
who grows up to be Casey Affleck
and I thought, Helen
her love was like that,
she loved me as if I were a child
pretending to be a younger version
of Casey Affleck
and I felt so sad! So sat that
I was sitting around on my couch the other day
and for ten solid minutes I couldn’t get it out
of my head, Nobody says butt fuck anymore
or if they do, I ain’t hearing it
when we were kids
we said butt fuck all the time
not because we knew what it meant, but
because it was fun to say
Butt fuck! Helen! Butt fuck!
I’m so fucking divorced right now!
I still remember when Helen had left
to think things over for a couple months
and she eventually called me from the east coast
and told me she wanted a divorce
I totally Han Solo’d her
unplanned and spontaneous
voice calm as hell
Helen: I want a divorce.
Me: I know.
It seemed like the only 2 words
in the world at the time
The only proper response
I’m so fucking anti-social!
I’ve gone four day in a row
where the only person I talked to
the entire time was the bartender
at Chilis
I’m so fucking hungry!
If you’d have told my 17yr old hopeless romantic
and clean faced self
that he’d turn into a middle aged
bearded hermit afraid of love
he would’ve told you
to go fuck yourself
but when you tell Jewel the same news
she’s way more polite about it
Heartbreak!
taking the dick out of Emily Dickenson
for shit, almost 40 years
love is a log cabin
and when they leave
they take all the logs
I was sitting at the Outback
the other day writing
and a pretty lady came over
and started to talk to me
and her boobs were perfect
the way the movie Mad Max Fury Road was perfect
the only difference being Fury Road
was one movie
and in the case of her boobs
there were two
and I could tell that she was into me maybe
but I’m so fucking bad at picking up women
right now that the only thing I could think
to say to her was:
Talking to you right now is really depressing me.
so I said it
and of course
she left
I’m so fucking confused!
I was in Walmart this morning
and they were selling Amish Potato Salad
and I was like, what the fuck is Amish Potato Salad?
and then I thought who cares and started making up
advertising catch phrases in my head
for Amish Potato salad because when you’re alone
most of the time you have to find various ways
to pass the time and entertain yourself
instead of having a girlfriend
I invent slogans for Amish Potato salad
like Amish Potato Salad:
this potato salad
is not a fan of electricity
or the way Harrison Ford is looking
at that young boy’s mom
(postscript)
I was at the Lafayette Chilis again around 5:10 p.m. on a Wednesday
sitting at the bar and this woman walked in
and she was pretty and she sat next to me
exactly in that order
I was waiting for a black bean burger
to go and someone to love me
She was picking up food to go too
She paid with her credit card
just like I’d paid with my credit card
we had so much in common!
until our to go orders
showed up at the same time
her bag was enormous
and obviously filled with
food for herself and
somebody else
probably her boyfriend
and my tiny plastic
bag the size of one
solo veggie burger
obviously enunciated
that I was alone
Her bag screamed:
I’m in a committed relationship
We eat Chilis to go together once a week
and have sex in between the 3rd and 4th commercial break
of America’s Got Talent every Wednesday night
My bag screamed:
I have loved deeper than space time and continuums
but now I’m obviously
broken and alone
(for more about Jonathan Montgomery and Me Too poetics visit jonathan-montgomery.com
for more about Love Shovel Ranch visit Love Shovel Ranch. or go to their website loveshovelranch.com
for more about Jewel visit Idon’tReallyKnowJewel)
Multiverse Johnson 