You’re fooling the seven people / you walked in with, but / not me —
On the weekends I worked with this kind of a weird cat who used to make art projects out of duct-tape and tampons out in the alley—which was entertaining—but also he was old enough to buy me beer and had pretty good weed most of the time.
I want to tell Louis C. K. how gorgeous he is.
Tell him to knock off the jokes
about his sloppy ass and red hair-
lessness and drive him to the country,
tell him hush. Hush, Louie. Hush.
Don’t take a handful of Vicodins the morning before your retest for fuck’s sake! It’s an opiate. I don’t care if you’re getting evicted out of your shit apartment.