Calvero

by Ian on May 9, 2012

Calvero currently lives in his parent’s basement with his two cats, Ralph and Matilda. That sentence is also the pickup line he uses when he’s trying to pick up girls at a bar, but, surprisingly, it never gets him any action whatsoever. When Calvero’s not writing he is more often that not eating Taco Bell, daydreaming about hunting ghosts, daydreaming about Taco Bell when he’s not eating Taco Bell, pretending to look for a job, or screaming in frustration at whatever video game he is currently addicted to. He has been published in The Legendary and Danse Macabre and you can read more of his work at http://calveropoetry.tumblr.com/

sometimes i miss you all the time

Sometimes
I miss you
all the time.

Sometimes
I hate you
all the time
too
though.

I dunno…
Don’t ask me.
It’s really confusing,
kind of like
basic algebra.

Even though
sometimes
I miss you
all the time
and even though
sometimes
I hate you
all the time,
every now and then
I’ll still secretly
masturbate to you,
but shhhhh,
don’t tell anyone;
it’s a secret.

I tell the walls
to close their eyes
and then,
when I’m sure
those perverted shits
aren’t peeking,
I’ll masturbate
to memories
of you and I fucking
and I’m pretty sure
that masturbating
to memories
makes me
the most pathetic person
alive,
but even so,
that hasn’t stopped me
from doing it
or anything.

Most of the time
when I do masturbate
to memories
of you and I fucking
I masturbate
to that time
when you took me
to your family reunion
up in some cabin
deep in the woods
and I met your family,
and your whole
extended family
too,
and there were so many people
around us all the time
that we had to sneak out
into the woods
just to have sex
and so we snuck out
and we fucked
right next to some queer,
old-ass, ramshackle
shed
and then I pulled out
and came all over
your ass.
We had
nothing else to use
to clean your ass off
with
so I wiped my cum
off your ass
with some dead leaves
that I picked up
off the ground,
and for some weird reason
as I wiped my cum
off your butt
I felt like I was back
in art class
in grade school.
I felt like
like I was working on
the greatest art assignment
ever,
and as I wiped off
your ass
I told myself,
You’ll never
forget this moment
for as long
as you live,

and as I stood there
wiping my cum
off your ass
I felt myself
turning into Michelangelo.
Not the Ninja Turtle
though.
The painter,

and every dab
and every wipe
was like a soft brush stroke
full of love
and purpose
because I was
the first/last man
who would ever
wipe cum
off your ass
with a leaf.
I was capturing
a moment,
a wondrous,
brilliant moment,

one that seemed
to connect us
and bring us even closer
than the sex
we had just had,

and I was so proud
of the art
I was creating
that a part of me
wanted to take home
one of the leaves
that I had used
and hang it on
my family’s fridge
with a magnet
and then I wanted to light it
with a spotlight
and section it off
by putting put it behind
a velvet rope.
I wanted to do that
but I didn’t.
I didn’t
because spotlights
and velvet ropes
are pretty expensive
and I don’t have
that kind of money.
I don’t have
spotlight/velvet rope
money.
Not even close!

Then once I was done
cleaning off your ass
we went back
to your family’s cabin.
I took one look
at your gruff,
grouchy,
dick-headed
hick of a dad
and all of a sudden
he didn’t intimidate me
anymore.
He didn’t intimidate me
anymore
because I was a brilliant artist
and then I did nothing
but smile
the rest of
our stay.

I masturbate
to that memory
every now and then
and after I’ve finished
my dick
is always pooped
and panting
and my balls
are tired
and empty
and I always have the urge
to clean myself up
with some leaves
but I don’t have
any trees in my room
because trees grow outside
so I always end up
just having to use
a tissue
instead.
Then one of my cats
hops up
onto the bed
and tries to sniff the tissue
full of
sticky,
white
memories
that I’ll never forget,
that I’ll never get rid of
no matter how many times
I shoot them
out of my wiener.

I never thought
a crumpled up tissue
full of sperm
could look like
two turtle doves
kissing,
but if you look at it
in just the right light
it does.

It really,
sincerely
does.

Sometimes
I miss you
all the time,

but not
right now.

Right now
I fucking hate
you,
because to
you
a crumpled up tissue
full of sperm
just looks like
a crumpled up tissue
full of sperm.

The next time
I’ve finished masturbating
to that memory
of you and I fucking
in the woods
I’m going to
climb onto my roof
and throw
the crumpled up tissue
full of sperm
into the air
and hope
and pray
that it splits into
two turtle doves
who fly away
in separate
directions.

Other than that,
I have no idea
as to how
to stop
hating
you,

or loving you
for that
matter.


you’re an empty vase so I’m going to stick some roses in your ears

You’re
an empty vase
so I’m going to
stick some roses
in your ears,
and I’m going to
stick some roses
up your nose
too.
They might accidentally
poke into your brain
and make you forget stuff
like your name
and where you live,
but that’s okay.
Just write your name
and address
on your underwear
like I do
and you’ll be
fine.

Then
after I’ve packed
your ears
and nostrils
full of roses
I’m going to
stick a bunch
up your vagina
too.
If you somehow
get off on that
then I think
you’re pretty weird.
Or pretty cool.
I’m not sure
which one
exactly.
Maybe both…

Then
once I’m finished
shoving roses
in your vagina
I’m going to
cram a hose
up your butt
and turn on the water
and fill you with water
to feed
those poor roses
that you’re holding
in your ears
and in your nose
and in your snatch.
I’d have to
fill you with water
or else the roses
would die.
They’d die
pretty quick too
because you’re
so empty
inside.

Even though
I’m cramming you
full of roses
I’ll leave
your mouth
flower-free.
This way
you can still talk to me
and tell me
how wonderful I am
and how special I am
and you can still call me
bullshit pet names like
“dear”
and “honey”
and “sweetie,”
and because your words
are so full of shit
flies will begin
buzzing around
your mouth.
The flies will go
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
all around your face,
but I’ll be ready
for them…
I’ll swat at them
with my lucky fly swatter
and I’ll squish them
right on your face,
and I’ll squish
so many of them
right on your face
that it’ll look like
you have acne
made of dead,
splattered
flies.
This way
not only will you be
an empty vase,
but you’ll be
an empty,
ugly vase
too,
and everyone
will know better
than to put any piece
of their heart
inside of
empty,
ugly
you.

Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Empty promises.
Empty promises who?
Empty promises you!

Hahahahaha!
Get it?

…No?

Me either.

I’ve never really been
too good
with jokes,
but I am
pretty good
with random facts.

Did you know
the human head
weighs 8 pounds?
The little retarded kid
from Jerry Maguire
taught me
that.

And did you know
that empty words
and empty promises
come from
empty people,
and empty people
are empty
because they’re scared
and frightened
and just all around
chickenshits?

Now
that’s a fact.

When I was eight
I hopped onto my bicycle
and missed the seat.
I crotched myself
on the body
and fell onto the ground
and vomited up
the SpaghettiO’s
I had for lunch.
The SpaghettiO’s
were sprawled
across the pavement
and they said
“OOOOOOOOOO!”
to me,
and then
I laughed
instead of crying
because the SpaghettiO’s
were silly,
and then
I got back on
my bike,

and that’s the difference
between you
and me;

I know how
to ride a bike
and I know how
to love
and you don’t,
and you never will
either
because you’re
too much
of a chickenshit
to even try
to learn
either or.

I’m going to
paint you yellow
and then place you
on a shelf
and then push you
off of the shelf
and watch you
shatter into
dozens of
pieces.
Then I’m going
to go for a ride
on my bike
and sing
The Power of Love
by Huey Lewis & the News
just because I can
and just because
I know
how
to.

you’re sure you still don’t wanna shower with me?

Now
that you’re gone
I need to learn
how to be
alone
again.

I have to
re-learn
how to sleep alone,
how to eat alone,
how to watch movies alone,
how to take showers alone,
and let me tell you,
showers
just aren’t as fun
without a nice, cute,
naked girl
showering
next to you.

I took
a shower
yesterday
alone
and it made me
sad.
It made me sad
because you weren’t there
naked,
singing
and dancing
and wiggling your wet butt
to punk rock tunes
playing off
your phone.
When the shower head
saw you weren’t there
with me today
it cried salty tears
on me
instead of water,
and that made me
wanna cry too,
because crying
can be contagious
like laughing,
and like herpes,
and like laughing herpes.
I was so sad
I didn’t know
what to do,
so I just stood there
and thought about how
if you hold
a black comb facing
downwards
on your upper lip
it looks like a mustache,
but if you hold it
facing upwards
over your lips
it looks like you have
a robot smile.
Those are
the kinds of things
you think about
when you’re sad
and alone
and the shower head
is crying
on you.

Then I remembered
I was supposed to be
showering,
but I didn’t wanna
shower alone,
so I went to my room,
and grabbed my old, stuffed
teddy bear.
His name
is Cool Bear.
(I’ve had him
since I was 6 months old)
He and I
used to be pretty tight,
so I had him
shower with me.
It wasn’t the same
as when you showered
with me
though.
He didn’t sing
or dance
or wiggle his wet butt.
Actually,
it was kind of awkward.
He just stared at me
the whole time
with this really blank
expression
on his face.
It made me
uncomfortable,
really uncomfortable,
so I tried
washing his back
like I used to do
wash yours
but it wasn’t
as nearly
as nice.
You had nice, clean,
smooth skin,
and he had fur.
Lathering up
a furry back
doesn’t feel nice.
Not even a little bit.
Actually it feels
kind of gross.
My dick used to get hard
lathering up your back,
but I didn’t even
come close
to getting hard
lathering up his back.
I don’t think stuffed animals
are meant to be
showered with,
but I just didn’t know
what else
to do.

The whole thing
was a bad idea.
If anything,
it just made me
miss you more,
and although
I wasn’t aware of it
at the time,
it made me realize
I was beginning
to fall in love
with you
too.

Love
is having someone
who makes all the
mundane, boring shit
we have to do
on a daily basis
tolerable,
if not fun
and special.

Everything
felt much more special
with you around.
Even just
sitting next to you
and biting my nails.

You’re way better
than a teddy bear,
and not to belittle Cool Bear,
but you give
way better head
too.

I miss you.

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