WithWords Press

“Spontaneous Poem”

Poemtaneous spawns, regroup! ;
Punktroneous spacklers, rejoice! ;
Pricktronic spanglers, resume! ;
All your dreams are dead.

-Chris Masson III

Sugar tits, really?
All I’m thinking
is I’m the only one up
and your cat needs to be
pet, so I pet it.
And I’m bored, so
I do push-ups
and your cat gets under me
So I stop doing push-ups
and I leave without waking you.

-David Bradford

My Craigslist Men

You said you were six-foot-four
and a photographer
but you fall a few inches short
in more than one area.

You show up at my door
with a yeast infection from the girl you live with
and some chocolates that don’t make it okay.
but at least I know that a basketball hoop
is ten feet high — you used to be good at something
more than calling people to approve their credit -
and hand out free iPod nanos.

What kind of Italian doesn’t like leather sofas
or obey his mother?
You were a sham and you made a mockery
of our gnocchi-flavoured love.
Our shananagins never lasted longer
than a few minutes, and baby you
need to go to Jean Coutu, get your
passport photo taken — and go south
of my border, if you know what I’m saying.

Desperate on Du Parc, 28
Your pic gets mine.

-Gen and Kim

-Nathan Murray