put it in the hole
by
tom miller
introduction
in a small village just south of the mexican border, there lives an old man who combs his beard three times a day with a dirty fork. and sometimes when he combs his beard, roaches fall out. that is why i wrote this book. i hope you enjoy it.
about your cheese, sir
i must confess
about your cheese, sir
it tastes quite atrocious
what an insult to a cracker
to adorn it with such matter
if you ask if i'd like more cheese
i shall simply answer, no please
for your cheese is so repulsive
i'd not feed it to a blowfish
i confess about your cheese, sir
i'd not feed it to some bees, sir
i'd not feed your cheese to ants, sir
put your dick back in your pants, sir
Nasty Lady in the Alley Way
A bum named Fred Margolis was searching in the alley way for discarded bottles of wine that might have a little left in the bottom, when he stumbled upon a lady passed out by the garbage cans.
"Hey lady," Fred said. "Is you dead? Is you dead, lady?" But the lady did not respond. Fred looked around to be sure he wasn't being watched.
"Well," said Fred, "So long as this lady's dead, she won't mind too much if I eat her out fo' a little while."
Fred peeled back her dress exposing her dry scratchy yank, and he moved his face in and began to lick. Suddenly, a roach scurried out and into Fred's mouth. It began to dance around in his throat.
Fred reeled back, and then ejected an eight ounce serving of boiled peanuts.
The lady bolted upright with her eyes opened wide! She shouted, "Yeesach! Yeesach!" And then, she died.
Yeesach the Roach - Killed by drunk rapist - January 27, 2000
i don't know how to pick up girls
i saw her, there, at the end of the bar. her ears were so squeezable. cute little rabbit ears. wax-filled fuzzy nyum nyum ears.
nyum nyum nyum.
nyum nyum nyum nyum nyum.
but i was never good at picking up girls. i'd say something wrong; something out of line; something they couldn't understand.
i had to try. i had to. with those ears, those sexy froggy baby ears, and her left arm pit. what a pit. so alluring, that pit of hers.
pit pit pit pit.
Oh, pitty pitty pitty pit.
and god, how her toes came out of those sandals, like little pig babies playing in the mud. they wiggled as if calling me to give them my attention. glorious little pink piggy babies.
piggy piggy piggy baby.
piggy piggy baby.
pig pig pig pig piggy baby.
soooooeeeeee! sooooooeeeee!
i had failed so many times before. but maybe, if i used my charm, my tact, my sexuality, i could bag this porcupine.
i took a deep breath, the last sip of my martini, and i walked up to her with all the confidence i could muster...
and i said, "nyum nyum nyum nyum nyum pitty pitty pit pit pitty piggy piggy piggy piggy nyum nyum nyum sooooeeeeee! soooooeeeeee!"
she left.
perfect knows you not
not for you
not this time
not any
too beautiful
like a diamond
in lava
or sushi
to the dead
you'll never have it
for yourself
what you've always wanted
what you've always
dreamed about
what you've prayed for
though you don't believe
in anyone to pray to
you can't own
mars
stars
tables and chairs
one more
cigarette
or a breath
of fresh air
you can't
piss in the sink
or brush your hair
with a bone
because
what you want to own
will still be there
when you're long gone
accepting being alone
after awhile
it gets better
about the time
your face sags
and your teeth rot
when you're sick of
what you do but too
fixed in your ways
to do anything else
when your mind goes
and you tell the same story
over and over again
then it gets better
then it gets better
then it gets better
Golf
He had his clubs. Very expensive clubs. They were made of carbon reinforced titanium alloy. He had his balls; Topflights. And he was ready to learn the skill of golf.
The lessons were expensive. $3,000 per half hour. But that was to be expected. You don't get Gother Mielke for cheap.
Gother approached the student. He studied the student for some time before speaking, looking at his golf clubs, looking at his balls.
"Sissy clubs!" Gother shouted.
"Pardon me?" said Gomez Finkerstein. "These clubs cost me $3000. They're a signature edition."
"Those are clubs for men with a tiny penis!" Gother said, in his thick German accent. "You vill play vith dis!" Gother handed Gomez a tree branch.
"What's this?" asked Gomez.
"A stick!" replied Gother. "And dis est da ball you vill use!" Gother handed Gomez a rock.
"But my balls are Topflights. These are the best they make."
"NEIN!"
"But these balls are..."
"NEIN!"
"But..."
"NEIN!"
Gomez figured Gother must know what he's doing. After all, these lessons didn't come cheap. So he did as he was told and used the stick and the rock to tee off.
He hit the rock with the stick and the rock flew into the air landing about four feet away.
"This is impossible," protested Gomez.
"NEIN!" shouted Gother. "Observe as I demonstrate."
Gother set the rock back on the tee. He lined up his shot and swung at the rock with the stick.
He missed.
"That was a terrible shot," said Gomez.
"NEIN!" shouted Gother.
"You missed the whole freakin' rock!"
"NEIN!" shouted Gother.
"Why am I paying for this? It's a rip off, you stinking Nazi!"
Gother pulled out a pistol and shot Gomez several times in the head. Then, he reached into Gomez's mouth and pulled out a gold tooth.
serious
can't you tell
i'm serious
i asked her
and she laughed
laughed with her
face and eyes
laughed with her
teeth
i'm leaving
i said
this time it's
for real
laughed with her
tits and fingernails
laughed with her
pussy and horns
laughed because
she knew
as well as
i did
i wasn't going
anywhere
beers in the coffee shop
people smoke
and drink here
and have
conversations
about nothing
i guess
and a few
people
sit all alone
thinking about
having a
conversation
about nothing
i guess
and somebody says
i love you
but they don't
mean it
they only met
moments ago
two who had
just been
sitting alone
wishing they could
have a
conversation
about nothing
i guess
and now
they are having it
i finish my
last sip of beer
and order another
my dagger is dull, rusty and useless
this page says
i dare you
to write something
that will ever
matter to
anyone
and again
the page
has won
writer's block
look for the man
sitting at the back
of the coffee bar
writing his ass off
on a cheap
pad of paper
from the
quick mart
and when you
see him there
get out of his
way and
don't bother him
because he might
be failing another
poem
the best he's
ever failed
something so
god awful
he might
rather than
throw it away
keep it and
send it to the
magazines
and they might
print it in
the next issue
with a photo
of the artist
sitting at the back
of the coffee bar
writing his ass off
but the flash
explodes with light
and the man
looses his place
ends up accidentally
writing a winner
nobody will ever read
lonely road to the freeway
Started down this hot stretch of asphalt and moved through the thick day one foot after the other.
It all looks the same except once in awhile there's a pasture with a cow in it and a fence.
The cow looks at you like she knows more than you do, but she and I aren't going anywhere, are we.
heaven on earth
there is a
cold place
a place
where
everything
is in
decay
where
things move
always
from
here
to
there
and
back
again
a
dark
angry
no place
with
starvation and
regret
where
love is a
bird with
broken
wings
and
angels
hover
like flies
over piles
and piles
of shit
10 things to say to the one you love
1. i love you
2. i love you
3. i love you.
4. i love you. suck my dick.
5. i love you. suck my dick. do the dishes.
6. i love you. suck my dick. do the dishes.
7. suck my dick. do the dishes.
8. do the dishes.
9. do the fucking dishes.
10.
dead baby birds
when a bird comes home
to its nest of eggs
and all the eggs are gone
the mother bird don't
give a shit 'cause
her brain is as smart as a prawn
rats for pussy
pussy sees a rat
he reaches in the hole
he pulls the rat out of the hole
and kills it with his mouth
he kills the rat with pussy mouth
he kills the rat with pussy mouth
he kills the rat with pussy mouth
pussy hole
pussy hole
meditation #23-F-32R41
let me smoke
it is my freedom
a squirrel
jumps from
one tree to the next
sometimes
he'll miss and fall
we should pass a law
to protect
the squirrel from
his freedom
he'd be safer
in a cage
i like
marijuana and
cocaine
sometimes
i enjoy
throwing up
eating
a
big fat
piece of
pork
masturbating
3
times in a row
they'll stop it all
one day
no more squirrels
in trees
no more cigarettes
in bars
no more talking
in public
but i'll be dead
before then
3 a.m. - gainesville, florida - coffee shop closed
ash trays
with spit
clove butts
and gum
broken glass
a band of drunks
steaming with
musical afterglow
like freshly fucked
sheep on a
prison farm
last conversations
about getting laid
french films and
led zepplin
the vacuum
of silence
after the roaring
of lions
and
cold cruel
streets to
take me home