Poetry for the Hard of Hearing
Published on October 22, 2008 By Johnny Masuda In Poetry


mo cooks five days a week down at

the horse head bar and grill

he practices his art on a circle of drunks

that crave his special flavors

not all of them food


but he’s not just a cook-ie cutter form

of a man that fills the bellies of the jovial

crowd waiting on his creations

his art is in his heart and the desire to

find that other half to keep his insanity

finely tuned has ruined better men than



but like every man before him his dick

leads the way and a couple of times a year

he lets himself think that maybe this ones

the one only to set fire to his beard the

next day swearing at himself for being

just so stupid


(he’s had to snatch his balls on the way out

more than once)


maybe this next one’ll be the one

but he’ll check her for weapons anyway and

make sure his body armor is ready for another

foray into frantic love before he surrenders his

ass to her wickedly smiling eyes


smoked brisket won’t be the only thing cookin’


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