13-50



Bad Romance

Do not let the clichés fool you.
There is not someone for everyone.
Many of us will end up alone.

I will, and I for one, am okay with that,
Because my singledom is self-selected.

It's oversimplification to say that what a man wants,
Is an angel in the streets, and a whore in the sheets.
What I want is much more specific.

I want Laila Ali in a street fight.
Because if someone hits her, and she doesn't knock them out,
I'm going to kill them.

And I don't want a whore in the sheets,
Because I paid too much for my shit to have it torn up like that.
Nah, I want a whore in the church. Because that's a funnier visual.
I also want to stick it to those religious types who label any woman who likes sex, as a whore.

But I want more than that.
I want a poet in the kitchen, someone who can make me a sonnet omelet,
Served with a knife and pen.

I want a daydreamer in the bathtub, a karaoke partner in the car, a three-plate eater at the buffet table, who doesn't mind tattoos, but doesn't have any, and would never get one, who has seen every episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer, twice.

But really, like anyone, I just want someone who gets me.
But until that person exists, I'll be found perfecting my jack off technique.

by Josh Smith

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As he grew up, Josh Smith's parents told him that he could become anything he wanted to be. Decades later, Josh decided that he wanted to be Anthony DiNozzo; but seeing as DiNozzo is a fictional character on the TV show NCIS, he settled for being the hottest rising poet in the Northeastern United States. For a less facetious bio, visit joshsmithpoetry.com

13-49



Wolf Just Has to Say

I have eaten
the tiny lady
that was in
the bed

and that
you were probably
hoping
to visit

Forgive me
she was deliciously
tender meat
for one so old

by Noel Sloboda

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Noel Sloboda lives in Pennsylvania... near the Amish. He is the author of the poetry collection Shell Games as well as several chapbooks. More information about him can be found here: http://www2.yk.psu.edu/sites/njs16

13-48



Foodie

I think that I shall never see,
a food that doesn't agree with me.

I whose hungry mouth is pressed
against the pie with lemon zest;

I who looks at food all day,
and lifts my heavy arms that sway;

I who may in summer wear
a net of chocolate in her hair;

Upon whose bosom crumbs have lain;
who hates to have her bagels plain.

I think that I shall never see,
my feet somewhere below my knees.

by Anne Skalitza

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Anne Skalitza is a freelance writer who lives three blocks from the Atlantic Ocean. No matter how many times she has tried, chocolate bars just do not survive the summer sun at the beach. When trying not to wrest food away from the seagulls, Anne loves to read cozy mysteries and has even been seen reading cookbooks from cover to cover. Visit her blog at anneskal.wordpress.com
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