Thursday, December 18, 2014

from the darkness

the devil owes me some onions
he was making a lasagna
one night and i gave him some
from my surplus supply

i wasn't aware that you put onions
in lasagna, but what do i know
i’m just a man who's intentions are good
a sinner who can’t stop crying

i also asked him for some things
that i’d rather not talk about in
this poem. it’s confidential.
sure i’m an artist, but not the kind

that tells you all kinds of secrets
about themselves
like i’m an excellent tambourinist
or that my urine tastes like electricity

or that my arms are doll like
and have fallen into the fire 
and that i’m writing
this sitting in a chair

in a forest 
inside a mall 
in New Mexico 
surrounded by monsters

Listening to a neverending 
loop of christmas songs
while the whole world 

slowly turns to shit


Norma said...

The devil puts onions on EVERYTHING, but he never touches them. He makes someone else cut them up. That's why he never cries.

Norma said...

King Kong:
Whoa! I’ve been listening to Bob Schneider music almost exclusively for almost a year now, straying occasionally just to keep the relationship fresh. How’d I miss “The Unknown?” I really like the rendition of “Ready Let’s Roll,” and the rest of the renditions sound pretty much like the songs I first heard and loved. So, this is my unsolicited, unwanted critique, and I quote, “Don’t read my shit, bitch, and then tell me you don’t like it…” Well, I did [listen] and I didn’t, but I would have.


Anonymous said...

click your heels together, twice, quick like. i miss you here Bob.