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Billy Collins Interviewed on Stage at Chautauqua
Billy Collins says you can't have people in your poems. It can only be you and your reader. You think of all the people in your poems: your Aunt Evelyn, your sister, your friends Linda and Dick and Ross. John Porter. Your mother. Your mother. Billy Collins says your job…
No Matter What Position You’re In
From her couch, she is looking at me upside down as she sketches, her pink, bare feet are flapping in the air like two salmon fighting upstream. She wants to discuss what to do about her short-tempered boyfriend, the ox-like defensive end of the high school football team. I'm sitting…
The ASBO Kid
A modern retelling of “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes It was kinda windy and the trees were blowing about. It was dark because it was nightime, so the moon was out. The road was a bit untidy, full of wee and rubbish and grub. And the ASBO kid came riding,…
Gibberish from the Tenth Dimension
Rabbit guts will bring the flies I saw his back shiver like a cat with ringworm He was deaf as a dog in the middle of a war How glorious life is I tipped him over like a sleeping cow His eyes were hard and black like buttons Angry bunions…
Rules for Poetry
Never use adjectives unless you're trying to describe something and you don't want to do it the hard way Never use the word “forever” It reminds people theyíre going to die and the last thing you need is people distracted by their mortality during your poem Write what you know…
Calabration Hooligan
Organelle demonized as part of the face, to celebrate the flagellation of Elizabeth II in 1953. This pecking salad half-seen careering on huffing tables nationwide ever since. Serves great: Earth lemon 5 hounds licking 1 bunion, gartered 1 camel, garroted 1 bucket carny 8 sacked beeper-sores, hushed Guilt Moralized pigs,…
My Muse is at a Sci-Fi Convention in Reykjavik
The art of writing is a hectic adventure, One needs a Muse to get the creative juices oozing nicely, Like [insert simile here.] My Muse often sits with me while I'm writing, Or does a little belly dance. His name's Carl, and he's fucked off this weekend, So bear with…
Bagging It
When I buy bagged corn chips, a bag of potatoes, and a bag of cheddar cheese popcorn and take these bagged items to the cash register if I don't watch, the cashier will throw these bagged items into a bag and if I say there's no need to bag these…
I Miss You But There Is Such a Thing as Banana Gin
Like the blade of a wind-turbine slicing through a swan, I think of you While the rain outside my room sounds like all The dogs in the world have suddenly decided to clean their genitals At exactly the same time. Lying asleep They come to me in the night Cross-eyed…
Sex with my Ex
I may or may not have sex with my ex-boyfriend this weekend he's coming into town and I'm trying to tell myself I won't have sex with him because when we were together all those years ago the sex wasn't even good and we fought like inmates because he didn't…
Riding High
at the Museum of Coaches, Lisbon When Clemente Eleventh went to tea Or other Papal industry He didn't take the train or bus Like common ordinary us But sat in most uncommon state Resplendent in his coach-and-eight. Indeed, it's down in Holy Writ That Papa Clement scored a hit Each…
How to Write a Poem for a Journal
How to Write a Poem for a Journal
Three Little Pigs
Three little pigs. That's a story you'll know, But it's all made of lies… Give the real tale a go: They were bullies and rude, So disruptive at school, In lessons wreaked havoc, To pupils, so cruel They would tease and torment They would punch kick and spit They would…
The Loyalty of the Sock Questioned
Admit I once mistook they ties to be Both loyal to me and thy partnered one, But now, besot with grief, my blind eyes see how cold a comfort cotton rows do run. How dare thee sep'rate from my feet? Cry I, Whilst changing out of trousers for the night.…
My Candidate of Choice
After long and hard deliberation I have finally decided who it is I am gonna vote for And my friends Come November 4th. I WANT YOU To write in the name of the most fiery the most powerful the most experienced leader the world has ever known. November 4th. I…
regarding eggplant
today i wake up, and i decide “it is my special day! i will give myself a reward even though i just got dumped and i really don't have a job and i don't have much money left and i need to buy new pants.” i decide none of this…
The Don with the Luminous Prose
When dreadful dullness and tedium spills Out from the dark academic mills, Through the long, long essay hours;— When the weary reader snores As tomes slip down to dusty floors;— When vast tracts breed in the Ivory Towers From the brains of the Oxbridge Bores:— Then, from amongst the baffling…
A Hipster Love Sonnet Sequence (Or Whatever)
1—His Skinny Jeans My hipster is a spectacle of taste In gray Skinny Jeans, his favorite pair Culled from the thrift store with apparent haste. They make me wonder: does he even care? Cuffed at the Chucks or scrunched below the knee With the button squeezed shut beneath his belt…
Soaps Fan
I love the evil twin the best, especially the one no one knew existed. Especially when it shows up with an ax to grind. Or the dead ringer paid to pretend to be brother, sister, old lover risen from the grave. I love the way anyone can come back from…
The Balls
A recitation of Edgar Allan Poe's “The Bells”, as read by Arnold Schwarzenegger Hear da sludges with da balls— Slivered balls— What world of merry mint their mell-o-dee fore…talls. How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In da icy air of da night! While da stars that over-sprinkle All de heavens, seem…
Bumper Sticker
I am usually not the type To put a sticker on my car. But I saw one at the bookstore; It was the best I'd seen so far. So I went out and I stuck it, On my bumper in the rear. Then I stood back and admired it. And…
A Psalm of Mice
What the heart of the young mouse said to the psalmist Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but a baited trap!— For the mouse is dead that slumbers, hibernating: winter's nap. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the traps about this house— “'Welcome death,' quoth the rat”…
Auditions Shall Proceed to Railcar #5
Three yellow steps up and at last, I am in. How I do love the stuffy air and uncomfortable seating. What have we for entertainment on today's commuter ride? Why hello baby daddy on cell phone. -Aww- look a newborn in arms, certainly is enjoying that splendid one-sided conversation! Fucking…
My Last Husband
After Robert Browning's “My Last Duchess” This is my last husband's picture hanging on the wall in the living room, as you can see, in a place that covers the hole he made when he tried to repair the electrical outlet one last time. No, he was not an electrician,…
Menopausal Rhapsody
Is this my fibroids? Is this anxiety? Caught in a hot flash No relief from humidity Open my legs Look up to my womb and see I'm just an old bitch (old bitch), I want big sympathy Because I'm bloody hot, freezing cold Little tight, will explode By the way,…
Frosty the Poet
Frosty the Poet Was a stern New England soul. California kid, but he kept it hid— He preferred the Yankee role. Frosty the Poet Was so sensitive inside, He could watch it snow at ten below Till his horse lay down and died. He went away to England in A…
Irony Has No Place in Poetry
This is the first line. It gives you a sense of what is to come or maybe it doesn't. This is the second stanza. It references something you haven't fucking read. Did you catch how I said “fuck”? Wasn't that edgy? This is the third. It is brief and cryptic.…
The Kitty
Kitty! Kitty! Purring loud In her litter box pooping proud, What digging paw and excavating toe Could prepare for the constipated Calico? In what kitty bowl or salmon cut Burnt thy fire in thy butt? In what gravel corner will she release? What exactly will adorn the piece? And what…
Ode to a Night in Ale
(Lines composed a few miles above drunken stupor on revisiting repeated rejection from a company which rejects nobody and finally being accepted only to be told the original company is no more) 1 My heart aches, and bitter bad stomach reigns I sense, as though I need a good pharm'cy,…
The Grammar Lesson
An English teacher walking home From class one autumn night Is accosted by a snarling wolf That gives her quite a fright “By your size and your formation, You're like nothing that I know” “Werewolf” growled the monster… “T'is the full moon makes me so” “A talking wolf,” she cried…
On the Succulence of My Lover, as Compared to Prozac
Shall I compare thee to a Prozac pill? Thou art less plastic, dost not make me belch Thou art more easy to unglue, and will orgasmic pleasures give, when thou dost felch. Sometime too much the Prozac mak'th me tight denying juice of hump thy dick provides 'tis Prozac robs…
Rooster Bill
A long time ago down in Little Rock, lived a farmer they called Rooster Bill, who boasted that he had the biggest cock from Arkansas to Capitol Hill. His cock was all Bill talked about to anyone who would listen. “If you haven't seen it,” he would often shout, “you've…
Monday’s Child Parody
We regret the text of this poem is no longer available.
A Red Red Bum
O my Bum's like a red, red, rose That's newly sprung in June; O my Bum doth play a melodie Distinctly out of tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie ass, So proud of thee am I; And I'll put powder on my rear Till both the cheeks gang dry.…
A Song for J. Alfred
(With apologies to T.S. Eliot) Let us go then, you and I To visit Prufrock—what a guy! Oh, do not ask, “Who is he?” As if you have somewhere to be J. Al Prufrock—he's the man! He throws teas like no one can Not those formal, dry affairs Here, the…
Wordy Harry
Now I know what you're thinking: did he use six iambs or only five. To tell the truth in all the excitement I've lost track of the scansion myself. But being that this is a sonnet— the most powerful poem form in the world— it could take Emily Dickinson's head…
Travellers’ Tales
In olden days a traveller once said “I saw a statue, and lying nearby on the ground its head was looking at you. Indeed, it had an ugly face with wrinkled lips, so you can tell the man who made it years ago must have known the guy quite well.…
Ode to a Friend
In England a chum Is the person who daubs hydrogen peroxide after life Has beaten the crap out of you Your chum will not even be disgusted By any residual crap-scent Emanating from your derriere In ENGLAND With your CHUM Your wounds will effervesce Like champagne Life will be a…
Upon Reading Your Poem
My sensibility is greater than your sensibility, ha, ha, my metaphors are fresher than yours my images are sharper my enjambment jams my evocativeness is more evocative than yours my meaning is deeper than your meaning because my intention is clearer. I have more miles to go before I sleep…
T’was the Night Before New Year’s
T'was the night before New Years, when all through the house Not a person wore cloth, not even a blouse. The stockings were flung on the couch and a chair, In hopes that some strippers soon would be there. So the children were sent to their grandmoms instead, While visions…
Salvation Drive-Thru
Feed your soul and your belly. Confess to the Babylon speaker before ordering. Pay at the first window, and Receive your communion bag at the second window. That's right. It's just that easy. Cruise through Christ the King Food Corral, where we observe three commandments: Thou shalt not covet thy…
It’s a Sign
Down the block from Gateway Middle, at the stoplight next to Dairy Queen, a square of plywood painted white, pounded with nails ten feet up a telephone pole with thick black letters that read: “Lost 2 Cows.” How did this “losing” happen in my neighborhood so far from the farm?…
For Wile E. Coyote, APETITIUS GIGANTICUS
“A fanatic is one who redoubles his effort when he has forgotten his aim.” —George Santayana 1 Monday he comes home squashed flat by a locomotive, Tuesday, his hair burnt to a crisp. Friday, a week—no bird, no prey, and nothing in the medicine cabinet to treat the anvil lodged…
Things Every Kid Should Know
Hey there boys and girls! I'm Uncle Will and I'm a poet. Do any of you know what poets are? That's OK boys and girls, neither does anyone else. A poet is a self absorbed douche who likes to write in small sentences because the structure of prose is too…
Living With the Lord
My sister-in-law, a fundamental Christian, asked me if I had invited the Lord Jesus Christ into my home and into my life. I replied that I had not. She suggested that I do. So I did. I sent out a general call to the universe and then turned in. The…
Poetry Market
Okay, I've scribbled some pretty good poems (Who am I kidding? They're brilliant!), so I decided to fire them out. Thus I secured post haste a copy of Poetry Market, igniting, then, an exhaustive search for journals qualified to reproduce my creative gems. Here's what happened (I only report the…
Waxingfat
My little minx come here, come sit a while preserve us from the pout—is that a smile that hovers on the lip—let's charm the Fay until the tired sun has ceased to play, bug snuggled into bed with silent night and tucked the grumpy city out of sight. Let's draw…
Move to Miami
Move to Miami get sunburn get laid get robbed get into an accident on 95 while the Hummers squeal and the assholes honk at your VW clown car. Move to Miami and learn to meditate, learn to laugh at the news because crying wastes water, learn a new mantra from…
A Tale of Two Cutleries
Twas near to midnight, and the moon shone brightly on a kitchenette, The beams reached thro' the window; wisps of heaven-sent baguette. And there they did illuminate a vast array of objects strange, In short, twas every tool required for full culinary range. At length, however, I'll divulge that those…
Rapunzel
Dedicated to the memory of Elizabeth I (1533-1603) who was sometimes called The Virgin Queen and quite enjoyed it! “It would please me best if, at the last, a marble stone shall record that this Queen having lived such and such a time, lived and died a virgin.” (Elizabeth to…
