surrealisting.

I think love is the most beautiful thing
in the world,
and I don’t give a f**k,
I have no original ideas.

I recite poetry
to get women to fall in love with me.
"Women who hear this:
FALL IN LOVE WITH ME"
that’s what it comes down to —
an ultimatum,
life or death.
jesus,
I’ve seen a man jack off to a gap window display,
so don’t tell me that love isn’t important.

Because love isn't easy.
love is the bane of my existence,
the reason why I hate valentine’s day
and halloween,
which is about ghosts
and I think you know where I’m going here.

I’m going to the land of girlfriends of halloweens past,
and maybe I’ve only got three ghosts in this land,
but this doesn’t mean that they don’t bring their friends,
because girls rarely travel alone in this land.

Lydia is from this land.
I used to kiss her
while listening to
the cure’s “just like heaven,”
so that song makes me sad,
why must we associate music with
our love lives?
I’m not trying to be profound
I’m just saying that music takes me
back,
and I can’t explain the memory process involved in that,
because I was not a psychology major,
and maybe my problem with picking up college age women
has to do with me always asking,
“YO SHAWTY!
what’s your major?”
Maybe I shouldn’t think of women in terms
of picking them up,
and maybe I should open up my sensitive side,
but really,
the sensitive side sucks.
I’ve been there.
You can only imagine the kinds of sweaters
they make you wear.
It’s not fair,
love is not fair,
and war is not fair,
and I don’t care what anyone has to say about
any of that,
I feel unloved.
Am I the only one?
I know that I can’t be that
misunderstood.

But you don’t want to
understand me!
You just want to hear the part
About my small dick again,
because the asian man will always be plagued
by this rumor
until he is brave enough to whip it out on stage
and say,

“HA! WE ARE GIGANTIC!”

Honestly, this is not the direction
I wanted to take
this poem.
I just want to be in the arms
of my true love, in a house, in a room,
in a wonderful world with our
two children,
a boy and a girl,
helga and lamar,
but maybe I shouldn’t have said this,
because love has got me f**ked up
and dying,
because I feel retarded without anyone to hold me,
and maybe that’s sentimental,
but what’s wrong with sentimental?
you see, I can’t even decide what I need
much less understand what I’m saying.
you see, all I’m saying
is
someone love me.