Loser

Loser

I write my love poems to dirty magazines
to trashy girls with oversized fake tits
and pink cunts between widely spread legs
with gaudy tattoos and pierced clitorises
and sad eyes

I write my love poems to porn videos
where love and passion last for fifteen minutes
and girls are invaded by ten inch monsters
moaning and watching with wicked eyes
smiling naughtily at their temporary man
everything bouncing and busted open

I write my love poems to strippers
dancing around poles and avoiding eye contact
with dollar bills jammed in their garters
opening their legs to men at the counter
as if it's a sort of greeting

I write my love poems to Jessica Alba
for lack of anyone better to write them to
she has a great mouth with full lips
pretty eyes and a perfect body
and her sun sign is Taurus

I write my love poems to Mardi Gras
where everything's a rainbow of red, yellow, blue, green, and so
on
and where girls feel it's their duty to lift their tops
and you can see people having oral sex in the street
which is full of trash, spilled beer, and puke

I write my love poems to gin
which is sort of like a good punch in the face
it's quick
it's painful
it puts you out cold
and sometimes you see stars

I write my love poems to tranquilizers
I go through the world in a hazy pointless daze
nodding and smiling at everyone I see
even if I don't know their names
and when I'd normally get pissed off
I just sort of laugh
and stand around and look dumb
knowing my tranqs will put me to sleep at night

I write my love poems to my right hand
it's the best lover I've ever had
it knows all of the best ways to touch me
and it'll never leave me
or force me to leave it
barring some sort of terrible accident

I write my love poems to hookers
one night stands for a little cash
that I couldn't spend in a better way
dark rooms with leather couches
sweaty nakedness
and that sense of accomplishment
that comes every time I know I've been bad

I write my love poems to sleep
it's the only thing that beats sex as a nightly diversion
leaving the world for a few hours
and maybe dreaming vividly
about ice cream and puffy clouds and blowjobs