Sunday, October 11th, 2009...1:00 pm

dante ocariz | 3 (more) poems

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A few lessons

Never do anything serious
without shoes on.
Never think you are anything more
than a fun diversion before
the real thing comes along.
But also,
don’t think he has more soul than you.
If your woman asks you,
“How bad do you want it?”
tell her, “not bad enough”.
Avoid the girls who prefer head
to fucking,
Their only subtle desire is to collect
mummified museum pieces of mind fucks
who are all fighting to get their lips
around the one piece of pie
that in reality
tastes like all others.
Get a woman into the habit of putting out
before dinner, preferably while she is getting ready.
That way, both stomach and mind will be emptied and you might
even be able to pay attention to the conversation.
Remember that losing
can be just as good as winning.
And that all of your heroes also cheated.
Lightening does not strike in the same place twice
but pubic lice does
and the shampoo burns LOVE,
makes the druggist itch at something not there
and teaches you to embrace foreplay
with the lights on.
And yes the early bird catches the worm.
But the alley cat runs off with both
and does it with
an assurance
and style
that makes it not seem like murder but…justice.


I wrote this poem for Jennifer
but she didn’t live long enough to read it.
She killed herself one night
because she was tired of the shower curtain rod
falling to the ground
and revealing her nakedness
to the men
who never paid their
share for beer
or abortions.
She died
while on the rag
and was found laying on a bed of receipts
and a newspaper cutout of the local rodeo was stuck to the bottom of her knee.
Her phone had not rang in over two weeks.
If only the skinny ones
had the soul and laughter of the fat ones
there would be less people found
with slit wrists
in lonely bathrooms
And every tree
that stands as tall as a hard on
would have a declaration of love
carved on its middle.
No more lipstick.
No more glitter.
The tanning salons can become mortuaries
and we will sell what we can’t

They come bringing gifts

Maxine called early to ask
If I wanted head for my birthday.
“Sure”, I said.
“Come by and bring ice.”

Everything has a catch
even in selfless acts like cocksucking.

Where was the grift?

Would it be a few bucks?

A warm shower and a place to crash until her assistance check
comes in?

Let her have that and more.

She deserves something other
than the husband who drove off a cliff in Nevada
and left his young wife
without a clue
stupid and confused.

I knew that deep down,
once you scraped away all the dust off Maxine,
she was a fine woman
and not just a wandering dimwit with a tarnished smile
who had worked for two years as a dominatrix in a high class cathouse
that catered to CEO’s with role play hang-ups.

She suffered with dignity
through all the submissive slaves who got off
by having their asses slapped with turkey meat.

She saw herself as a winner
who drank with losers.
I saw her as damaged goods
years out of warranty.
Standing at my door
with a badly tied bow around her chest
Maxine is an immortal hummingbird
poised to outlive the envy in all of us.
Insane about the zodiac,
she spent half of my blowjob
going over numbers in the calendar
and how they foretold
that we would be here
… at this moment
…in this time

And once our chakras were aligned
I shot my load into her mouth
and she never got to finish
what she was saying
about good karma
or the equinox…

Dante Ocariz

was born in Los Angeles right around the time crack cocaine was getting off its feet. The music was getting worse. And the city would have to wait over 10 years for a decent riot to shake things up. After losing his ass in too many back alley dice games, he hit the road in search of forgiving pawnbrokers. After all the dust had settled he ended up in Arizona and began to write poetry. He is currently working on a chapbook entitled “Tinea Cruris: poems in heat”.


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