the raccoon staggers
across the lawn
in noonday sun
drunk on trash
juice & rum like
that time in 1989
when Joanie tossed
a fifth of Everclear
into the bonfire &
the heat-whomp
pushed us back
& two days later
I sobered up enough
to squint & crawl
home & think
𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬?
#badmicropoetry #poem
My Dinner with Andre
Complaining that studying literature in school ruins the pleasure of reading is like complaining that learning about sexual reproduction in science class ruins orgasms.
Pro tip: if your insurance company runs national ads featuring celebrities, pro athletes, viral spokespeople, or animated characters, you might be paying too much for car, home, and/or life insurance.
(The exception is MetLife because yes, I'd buy life insurance from Snoopy.)
The Blues Brothers is the best musical film ever made, full stop.
𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
there is no plan
beyond just this:
bees for honey,
flies for shit.
#badmicropoetry #poetry
no one prays
to the god of
sporks except
drunks at KFC
& even then the
slaw goes every-
where but home
#badmicropoetry #poetry
Boosting this post because I'll be damned I didn't catch myself nodding my head in agreement as I read:
frankchimero.com/blog/2025/se...
outskirts math
+
first fall morning:
driveway cat unfurls
beneath Ford F150
-
sauce, sauce, squirrel
Cadet Cub circles
battered apple trees
x
morning splits air
lawn gurgles sludge:
septic tank leakage
÷
across the creek
my father's razor
rusts in silence
#badmicropoetry #poems
1. No false starts
2. Stop overthrowing receivers
3. Mahomes needs to run forward instead of scrambling backwards
4. Get the third downs
#chiefs
#nfl
Chiefs can recover but at least they aren't as sloppy as YouTube's attempt to insert YouTubers into the game coverage.
“Monstrous!” Fafhrd commented. ”But what do the Devourers gain from all these furious commercial sorties, all this mad merchandising? What do they really want?” Ningauble replied, “The Devourers want only to amass cash and to raise little ones like themselves to amass more cash and they want to compete with each other at cash-amassing. (Is that coincidentally a city, do you think, Fafhrd? Cashamash?) And the Devourers want to brood about their great service to the many universes—it is their claim that servile customers make the most obedient subjects for the gods—and to complain about how the work of amassing cash tortures their minds and upsets their digestions. Beyond this, each of the Devourers also secretly collects and hides away forever, to delight no eyes but his own, all the finest objects and thoughts created by true men and women (and true wizards and true demons) and bought by the Devourers at bankruptcy prices and paid for with trash or—this is their ultimate preference—with nothing at all.” --from "The Bazaar of the Bizarre" by Fritz Lieber
Fritz Leiber knew that capitalism run amok killed civilizations.
someone is watching TV with the sound off & outside someone yells over the lawnmower prowling forth & back & the doorbell rings & the dog starts in when the knocking starts & maybe if I sit still they won't look through the window & see me, won't tap the glass or hold the bell until the ringing becomes unbearable but I can hold it a long time: I've been married forty years
tree on roof:
squirrels scurry
as chainsaws growl
#badmicropoetry #poetry
June 22, 2025 A BRIEF AND LEAPY HISTORY OF THE SQUARE Tom Snarsky Pythagoras, whom Google calls a “public figure,” founded a school (which is a kind of square) and then died. 1 of the school’s beliefs (also a kind of square) was that any number could be written as a ratio, a fraction of 2 whole numbers. This would make the numerical universe, and by extension the world (a 3rd kind of square), rational. About a century later, as the apocrypha would have it, a Pythagorean named Hippasus discovered that the square root of 2 (the length of either diagonal of a square with sides of length 1) could not be written as a ratio of 2 whole numbers. If you tried you’d get a contradiction, and Marx & Hegel were a ways off yet, so Hippasus’s Pythagorean peers looked the gift horse of this result right in its surd mouth and pushed H off a cliff to his death (the final square). Fast forward to many, many years later and a late-teenage boy is in high school biology, filling in recessive & dominant alleles in a slow, confusing attempt to understand life (which is so rarely a square). The boy drops his pencil, and when he leans down to pincer it off the floor another boy has already picked it up, a boy with perfect hair & political aspirations (squares par excellence) the 1st boy is about, completely unawares, to ruin. Years later when they are old, tired, & happy on Cape Cod, the 1st boy will write a diary entry à la Ned Rorem explaining their whole romance (a kind of square you can fold up into a paper heart). Like this history, it’ll have 289 words (incl. title)—i.e. the square of 17.
happy #smallpoemsunday! 💜
feel free to participate by posting small poems you wrote, +/or small poems you love by somebody else :)
leaning into “small = fits screen” today to share this 289-worder I’m so glad to have up at @havehashad.com, with much gratitude to the editors :)
A painting of a bird next to the words "sometimes it's best to shut your fuckin' mouth"
The Trick Is (after Ellen Bass) to stop caring, to stop it even if you obsess over it and everything you've thought flutters away like a freed parakeet, the air swirling with the speed of it. When anger sits with you, an iron ball more fit for gym than stomach; when anger consumes you like flames in a crucible, an inferno of anger, you think, How can a country withstand this? And then you hold freedom like water cupped in your hands, precious water, holy water, live-giving, here, now, and you say yes, I will fight for you, you will slake my thirst, again.
a drop of ink
spreads out
in a glass
of water;
a log rots
in the woods
& the universe
expands in
whatever
cradle rocks
the universe
to dreaming
while babies
sleep & light-
houses break
beneath waves,
salt drying on
so many cheeks.
#badmicropoetry #poetry
Utah Hockey Club spent so much money on marketing research they couldn't afford an extra s.
#hockey
my third grade teacher
mrs. nelson was right
that nothing can
brighten your mood
like a good scratch-
n-sniff sticker so
maybe give one or
two to your local
neighborhood blow-
hard but not the
poop one because
jesus what kind of
message are you
trying to send?
#badmicropoetry #poetry
the rich these days
want a new gilded age
yet have nothing
but trailer-trash tastes
with dollar-store
bric-a-brac
spray painted gold
shoved in every
conceivable space
& their hearts are
as empty as the words
that they weave
building temples
at Narcissius' feet
#badmicropoetry #poetry #doggerel
yes the sunset
is beautiful but
so is dog shit
yet no one
likes my selfies
#badmicropoetry #poetry
437 IBM Way
there's a small house
in the code set, a soft
space to rest during
furious sessions where
you can shut the door
& breathe & perhaps nap
before the usual shady
characters drag you back
to work with bullets & clubs
& daggers saying type
faster dammit type faster
#badmicropoetry #poetry
_never let the bastards get you down_
from acres of processed bullshit
flowers burst wildly to blossom
#badmicropoetry #poetry
nuzzled by mist
the coyote trots
through 6 a.m.
intersections, tongue
dangling, panting
beneath a moon
indifferent as blue
Hyundais idling
at lights aching
to flash green
as deer amble
the high school
baseball field
& a jogger stops
to take note of
her twitching calf
#badmicropoetry #poetry
all these middle grade bastards
keep pushing the backwards
slide as if thwacking your head
in the stagnant pool at the end
was the coolest playground move
#badmicropoetry #poetry
third grade kiss
I remember
nothing but
the taste
of orange
tic-tacs over
chocolate milk,
not even
her name
#badmicropoetry #poetry
