plan a to plan b

by James Mannix


to start
all these words are
stolen but what
isn't stolen at
this point in the circus?
if you aren't a thief
you are a
shmuck. that doesn't
go to say that i
am not a shmuck.
the point. sunday.
loitering in my mind is
a bug that should not
be here. not today.
the fact
that i am noting it in
poem makes me feel
as art fag as they come.
that doesn't go to say i am not
an artist
or a fag.
losing pace.
she is not worth a spot
in digital type.
so why the spot so big and cancerous
in my rotting melon?
the sex isn't good.
comparable to fucking
a dead cancerous
rotting melon.
i cum in her 2 times sober.
1 time drunk.
i tell her this after.
shes says:
are you trying to have a kid?
i say:
listen you stupid little cunt
they make skittles
you can eat
to evaporate this problem.
it cost me $40 at Rite Aid.
how many have i really
evaporated?
and how many
of those skittles
were eaten in vain?


James Mannix is a graduated art student. He is qualified to wash dishes. He loves whiskey. He loves whiskey so much that he will probably have to stop drinking it very soon. He is very new to writing and reading for that matter. He has had sex with more girls in his life than books he has read from start to finish. This doesn't go to say he has huge fuck numbers, more like he has low book numbers. He does love to fuck  too, if he didn't already mention this. Is this also a dating site? Favorite words: Insinuate, Twat, Azucar.