MICRO BRAWLERS

So now I am the proud owner of an Abdullah the Butcher micro brawler.  I’m sure many will question why a grown man needs to own such a toy.  They tell me that it’s a child’s toy but it did seem like something that would make my life just a little bit less oppressive.  Can’t I be young at heart and maintain a child’s sense of wonder? 

It says 3 and up

so I am well over 3

I deserve to play

They will question why I would want to waste my money.  They really don’t understand and I don’t have the time to explain.  They will keep telling me that this wasn’t really something that I needed to have.  I need water,  I need shelter.  I need clean air to breathe.  It also seemed of the utmost importance that I make sure the world knows that this is an Abdullah the Butcher household.  The dog wants to chew the toy as soon as it comes out the package but that is another story.

You had to be there

to had to grow up wrestling

ballet of violence

unfolding every Saturday

inspired by a butcher

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/georgeschaefer/prose/1109408

SQUANDERED SERENDIPITY: A Second Helping of Cannibalized Haibun: Schaefer, George: 9798354488872: Amazon.com: Books

DEMOCRACY! WHISKEY! SEXY!

America! Democracy! Whiskey! Sexy!
Oh my,

Democracy to elect inept candidates
with the Haliburton Seal of Approval.

Whiskey–We’ll toss down shots of diluted J.D.
to celebrate our newfound freedom.

Sexy–well the whiskey should make it appear that way.

Coda to D.W.S.

Fuck the Democracy!
The whiskey told me so
and I still don’t feel very sexy.

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/fuche_bu/poem/1060741

NAKED GUY

You’re just trying to have a good time enjoying the music.  They tell you that all the crazies like to congregate on the field in a quasi mosh pit of sweat and flesh.  A few of the crazy manage to work their way up to the nosebleed section to shatter your tranquil peace.  Hey, you’re at Citi Field in Queens.  You have to expect as much.

Quietly passing a doobie and enjoying the ride when a drunken (or high) lout starts harassing people.  He is bothering the women and then wanting me to kick his ass.  I just want him to leave.  He is finally escorted away by police and we notice that he is not wearing any pants.  He was shoving his junk in other people’s space.  He wants me to hit him.  I await security and police to escort him out.  No one injured but a few people stirred by the event.

Pants still required

no one wants any mushrooms

at least not that kind

Then after he is removed, we all wonder about it.  I didn’t even realize he was half naked when I was trying to convince him to just walk away.  I never beat up a naked guy before.  I’m glad I didn’t have to start here.  I don’t think I need something like that on my resumé.  It’s not an entry on my bucket list.  I assure you of that.  Then a couple police officers had to find his clothes including his undergarments.  That was a rather unpleasant recovery.  It made me glad to just be a drunk, stoned Deadhead.

Mad search on bleachers

find abandoned underwear

reclothe nude moron

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/georgeschaefer/prose/1099622

Cannibalized Haibun: Schaefer, George: 9798416456573: Amazon.com: Books

POET SLAP FIGHTS AND ASS KISSING

We are getting snippy and contentious anymore.  It doesn’t seem like anyone can have any fun anymore.  So we have poets declaring on their posts that ass kissing doesn’t belong in poetry.  Hmmm, I initially misread the post and thought he wrote ass kicking.  I was thinking to myself that I can see room for both.  Sometimes you do have kick ass and depending on the person, you may actually want to kiss their ass.  It isn’t all bad.

No ass kissing

No poet slap fights

No fun of any kind

Then I see a poetry group that frowns upon poet slap fights.  I mean, come on, are you suggesting we go for full on poet fist fights?  I just don’t see that working.  What was the immortal line from Groundskeeper Willie:  “You speak like a poet but you punch like one, too.” Better to let poets slap fight and allow the illusion that they weren’t trying to hurt one another rather than let them actually have a fist fight and reveal the pathetic truth.  Besides, I happen to like both ass kissing and poet slap fights.  What can I say.  I am a little kinky even if I did chicken out when my dominatrix suggested CBT.  Being kinky doesn’t mean I need my scrotum scraped with sandpaper.  I’ll take a hard pass on that one.

Let my poets slap

enjoy thy frenemy’s ass

all good in the end

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/georgeschaefer/prose/1100254

Cannibalized Haibun: Schaefer, George: 9798416456573: Amazon.com: Books

CHRISTIAN YOUTH HOSTEL

Amsterdam is always a wild town with interesting twists and turns.  Part of the Red Light District wraps around an old church.  They have a Christian youth hostel that is located right next door to a Thai massage parlor.  I accidentally walked in the wrong door.  Next thing I know, people are handing me a Bible and praying for my soul.

I was like, “ Wow!, this is pretty kinky.  When do we take off our clothes?” 

Suffice to say my stoned error was not met with kindness and I was quickly invited to leave.  I, of course, was met with open arms when I moved next door and flashed a roll of guildens.  It always helps to be in the right place at the right time.

Absent minded fool

can’t read sign above entrance

met with derision

a soul well beyond saving

I swiftly ventured next door

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/georgeschaefer/prose/1106861

SQUANDERED SERENDIPITY: A Second Helping of Cannibalized Haibun: Schaefer, George: 9798354488872: Amazon.com: Books

SEX ON THE BEACH IS UNPLEASANT

Sex on the beach is always glorified in the movies but it isn’t really all that practical in real life.  The movies provide that image of the two stars entwined in each other’s arms in the sand as light waves break on the shore gently rolling up to their feet.  They roll around ever so tenderly yet succumbing to the overwhelming passion of the moment.  Ah, if only it could be so pleasant.

Sand gets everywhere

no orifice is safe

each crack infected

They don’t tell you about the ubiquity of sand.  It will get anywhere and everywhere and it will cause chafing.  I doubt it’s pleasant for a woman if the sand gets into her vagina.  I can attest that it is excruciating if the sand gets in your pee-hole.  You don’t need to know Latin or be a scientist to know that urethal meatus and sand don’t mix. 

Yeah, delude yourself into thinking a blanket or beach towel will protect you from intrusive sand.  It’s getting everywhere.  Wet or dry, it is getting anywhere and everywhere.  It’ll even be in your knickers when you get dressed to go home.  You might even discover some new orifices on your body.

Get a motel

or a space in the woods

avoid the sand

avoid the pain of chafing

you’ll feel better later

No one ever lamented the chafing that never happened.  Don’t trust all the Hollywood elite with all their brazen lies.  Sex on the beach is rather unpleasant.  There’s no romance to scratching up your arms and legs and getting sand in your anus. 

Chafing really sucks

Hollywood lies unneeded

Live life freely

but keep the sand far away

keep your knickers clean

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/georgeschaefer/prose/1108533

SQUANDERED SERENDIPITY: A Second Helping of Cannibalized Haibun: Schaefer, George: 9798354488872: Amazon.com: Books

STREETWALKER

She was a street walker

by all accounts

She had a plastic rose

pitifully shedding petals

proudly adorned in her hair

But she did have moxie

and an awareness of diners

At her recommendation

I found an old school diner

serving greasy breakfast fair

As it was only fair

and I alone to boot

I invited her to break fast with me

Order what you like

It’s all on me

Chatting over coffee

and buttered rye toast

Her sometime sordid

sometime glorious past

poetically brought to life

She hungrily tore into eggs

yet somehow she was lovelier

than most dates I’ve had

She was certainly kinder

and possibly saner

I had a full docket

but I handed her a Jackson

on the promise of lunch

I really hoped she would

get a good lunch or dinner

She deserved better

than what life threw her way

but carried better grace than most

myself included

I’m not too proud to admit

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/georgeschaefer/poem/1109896

SHOT OF JAMESON TO CHASE THE BEER

I skipped out

on the poetry reading

at the free library

where I was scheduled to read

a new brewpub opened

just down the street

and my whistle

required a little wetting

so I walked down the street

oblivious to any consequences

or hurt feelings attached

my name was on the list

for the open reading

They’ll call my name

and be greeted with silence

and they’ll call my name again

going once going twice. . .

Perhaps, I consider,

my best reading ever

as I belly up to the bar

and order my first beer

but I’m also feeling

a little frisky

so I order a shot of Jameson

to chase the beer

I really don’t know why

I felt so nervous an hour earlier

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/georgeschaefer/poem/1101450

AMERICAN ZEN KOANS: Schaefer, George: 9798809062107: Amazon.com: Books

ASSHOLES AND BITCHES NEED NOT APPLY

As I waltz through my life

whiling away hours, weeks,

years & even decades

I never found a shortage

of certain undesirable sorts.

There seems to be 

an asshole lurking

under every rock

& a bitch to be found

around any old corner.

The cretins aren’t coming.

They’re already here

They appear out of the mist

when you least expect them

always willing to lend a hurting hand.

There’s no longer any surprise

in finding someone new

only to learn they are not dependable.

You’re only an afterthought

they never truly care for.

As I get older

I find I have fewer friends

and more casual acquaintances

and that’s very much by design

as I try to keep my life real.

I’d rather be surrounded

by those relatively special few

that I know I can count on

than have thousands of false friends

valued at a dime a dozen.

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/fuche_bu/poem/1068152

JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SAFE TO DO POETRY AGAIN: Schaefer, George: 9798449725561: Amazon.com: Books