How To Make A Worm Do As You Command
Tom Miller

A Book of Poetry, Short Stories, Rumblings, Musings, and Flaborkia.

Revised and edited by Tom Miller
January 16, 2006

© 2000 FREDInk Productions

Random Love

I love you, I

Said to her and she said,

UFOs are coming to

Take me away

She could have said

Frog or sewing machine or

10,000 beers had poison and

Were recalled

And the employees drank

Them and never died

She could have said

Anything really, but then again,

She could have been anybody

Anywhere anytime and

Maybe we were in love or

Maybe we were dead baby

Seals bleeding on the ice

How was I to know?

How is anyone to know?

Fish Lips Look Like Kissing

When you catch one

And pull it out of the water

And put it on your boat

It lies there and

Tries to live

The fish lips

Open and close like kissing

But really, the fish is


Dying trying to catch

A breath

Asking itself,

"Why me? Am I that stupid?"

Sometimes you throw it back

And watch it swim away

Feeling a certain pride that

You could catch anything at all

On your line

But sometimes

You just look

You wait and watch until

The lips donít kiss



Try anything

To get you going

Put your face

In snow

Bite off your toenails

Eat a bug

Watch a blade of grass

For seven hours


On a flower

Sing songs

Made of words

You invent

Do something


Lift your ass and

Fart glory to the sky

Hurt your friend

Get them to trust you

Then hurt them again

Put money in your mouth

Kiss dirt or trees

Normal things

Are as strange as this

Try anything

To get you going

To be alive

Before your greatest possession

Is a tombstone

Bought on credit


I have done

Things on wine

I would have never done

Things which I am both proud

And ashamed of

Grand things

Selfish things

Things which saved the world

Sucked dicks

Fucked pussies

Threw up on

People while

Sucking their dicks or

Fucking their pussies

Written the greatest poems

Of the century

Written the worst poems

About my mother

Taped a lizard to a firecracker

Smoked wax I thought was crack

Played with my shit

Put my finger in a dogís ass hole

Dropped a cricket into an ant pile

Cried curled up in a corner

Held a gun to my head

Pulled the trigger

Been so drunk I

Couldnít load a gun

Sometimes itís a Chateau Le Blanc and

Sometimes itís Booneís Farm

Blow Your Friend

When in doubt

Blow your friend

Make your friend tell you

You suck dick better than his


Take him to that dumb place

Where men shoot their schlorp

Where they make the dumb face


Where wars and job and money

Disappear and instead, a white scunge

Splurts out of a blood filled

Tube of flesh and stink

Blow your friend

So that everything that matters

Turns to glue

Swallow every drop of

Essence swallow every half-baked


Interfere with reproduction

Do it for pleasure

Help prevent a new child being born

Into a world of idiots by

Eating them

Swallow cum out of a

Swollen happy prick

Do it with a friend of yours

Because youíll be doing them a favor

That youíd only do with strangers

For money

A Cat With Balls

I had a big furry tabby cat with the biggest set of cat balls

And though this cat had no claws, he terrorized the neighborhood

Cats by beating them to a pulp anyway.

It was the balls, I think. If you have a big set of balls, you donít need

Claws to beat up the neighborhood cats. He didnít know he didnít have

Claws. He beat up the neighborhood cats with his balls.

When my cat would come home, Iíd pet him and heíd purr. Heíd purr

Like a í74 Chevy Nova, heíd purr. And Iíd pet his head and Iíd pet his balls.

Iíd say, "Where did you get that big gash on your head?"

One day, I came home and there on the porch was a rat head. I donít know

Where the rest of the rat had gone, but the head had big eyes, horrified eyes.

I knew my cat had chewed this rat head off while it was still alive.

"Good pussy," I said. "Good pussy. What a set of balls on this cat. What a set of balls."

One day, my cat didnít come home. I found him later in two parts on the road.

He had been run over like many cats get run over.

Acne Girl

Her face was pocked with acne and none of the boys wanted to take her to the prom, so she decided to go alone. Maybe she would meet a boy there who also had nobody to go with. Maybe he wouldnít judge her by her unsightly acne and maybe he would dance with her.

That night, she coated her face with acne medication that would help to dry out all the pus that had coagulated around her eyes and nose. The next morning, She applied makeup and powder to disguise her horrible acne scars and pustulated mountains of infection.

When she was all finished, she looked like giant sandpaper, but only under directional lighting.

"Iím beautiful," she said as one of the boils on her lip oozed a yellow fluid. She wiped it away and headed out to the prom.

When she got there, all the boys looked at her acne and laughed at her pus. They were pointing and laughing, and acne girl began to cry. But off in the distance, there was a boy seated all by himself. He weighed three hundred and seventy five pounds, but he had a handsome hairstyle.

Acne girl thought to herself, "Now thereís a boy who will dance with me. Yes, heís a fat blob, but Iím a pustulating pus pocket of infection. Maybe if we get together, weíll show these so-called beautiful people that love isnít about being perfect, itís about hot passionate sex. She made her way over to him and said, "God, youíre a fat fucking blob!"

He replied, "Christ on a cross hatch, you look like a lava flow."

"Want to dance?" she asked him.

"Sure," he replied.

They held each other arm in arm and began gyrating to the music.

"I bet youíd like to fuck me," she said.

"Yeah," he replied. "Youíd probably be so slimy and oozing that it would feel as if I were fucking a pretty girl."

"And you." she added. "If I can find your cock between the folds of ham you got hanging from your paunch, Iíd make you spew like a popped zit."

"Deal!" he said. "Iíve got a room right here in this hotel. Letís go and lay waste."

The two went off together up to a private suite, and as he lay over her to penetrate her wound, she blew up from the pressure of his ungodly weight in a bath of yank.

"God damn!" said the fat boy. "Itís one thing to have an acne problem. But itís another to actually be an acne problem. Some people really let themselves go, and I find that quite disgusting."

As he made to exit the building, his distended belly caught him in the doorway and the fire department had to cut him out of the doorframe with a power saw.

The funeral was held at AcneÖ I mean Acme Cemetery in Bethesda, Maryland. She was buried in a giant absorbent cloth and her tombstone read: Here lies the body of acne girl Ė who used to be a human and now is a bucket of hurl.

And as for the fat boy, he managed to lose three hundred and ninety-five pounds over the next year and died a short time later from anorexia.

Just before he died, he had developed a severe acne problem.

And that just goes to show you: When two people fall in love, the only things that can get between them are problems.

Picture Book

I look at these pictures

They canít be real

Though they show me

With friends I have known

No, I was never that young

Never that happy

The grain of the paper

And shine of the gloss

This is nothing

There are no memories

That can be captured like this

Are there?

Itís a movie

Or a television show

I was never there

It just looks like me

The same way

You look at a night sky

And see stars one minute

That are gone the next

Echoes of Echoes

Seems like Iíve been here before

Singing the same songs

Smelling the same smells

Drinking the same wine

Itís all familiar

Every wave

Or drop of water

Or snowflake

From a distance,

My friend

From a distance

They all look the same

Death Now and Tomorrow

Try to do it

Every chance you get


At the poetry reading

Die over a cheap beer


Thinking about the one youíll

Never have

Pack up the gear

And die

Maybe in the ocean

Where it all came from

Die there

Or maybe in your bed

Every curve and contour of the

Pillows and sheets

You know it

Die where you know it

Die in the arms

Of the one you love if you can

Or die near the one

Who never loved you at all

Let them see you go

And maybe tomorrow

Theyíll know

Like you know

Here and There

Iíve been watching you

For a long time

You donít know

Because itís my secret

Watching you talk

And talk


Sometimes because you mean it

Once in awhile

Only seconds at a time

Our eyes meet

And weíre both there

I would trade everything

For those moments

How To Make A Worm Do As You Command

Worms canít hear

But they feel vibration

So you stomp on them

With your boot

"Feel this, mother fucker!

You mother fucking goddamn worm!"

But then they canít feel

Because theyíre dead

Thatís just how I think

All the loves I have ever known


They feel like worms

Dead worms Iíve killed

With my boot

Because the mother fuckers

Wouldnít listen to me

They never knew I cared about them

Never knew I wanted to hold them

In my arms

Never knew I wanted to

Kiss their slimy puckered asses

From here to Madagascar

I would have given anything

To each and every one


But worms only have one thing to do

And thatís ruin your apple

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