This Fckin' Blog

Points As those of you motherfuckers Who were reading This Fuckin' Blog last year (Or who heard this ) Already fucking know, I like Citibike: I used to have to buy motherfucking monthly transit cards From the motherfucking MTA Every motherfucking month And I fucking hate the motherfucking MTA. Citibike has saved me a shitload of money That would otherwise go to the pieces of shit At the fucking MTA So yeah, I fucking like Citibike. If I had to name the worst fucking thing About Citibike I guess I'd say that sometimes There's no fucking bikes And you have to walk to another fucking docking station And sometimes There's no room to dock your bike So you have to ride to another station to dock your fucking bike But that's really no big deal It's only occasionally a pain in the ass. But, so then, I get an email from Citibike a couple of  months ago, About this new fucking program Where you get points If you take a fucking bike from a to...

So this fucking morning, I get one of these fucking messages from Facebook, Telling me I'm celebrating Three fucking years of friendship Between me and Dan Fucking West. There’s a little fucking video thing. I've never looked at one of these fucking Facebook videos before. It's kind of fucking stupid, But it brought back some nice fucking memories. I really fucking like Dan West. He is one awesome motherfucking motherfucker -  I'm fucking serious like a motherfucking heart attack. But at the end of the fucking video, It says something like, "There are billions of fucking friendships out there, But only one like yours (Meaning mine and Dan West's). That's fucking awesome." I'm not sure why that is fucking awesome. You could say that every fucking friendship Is fucking unique. Is that awesome? I don't fucking know. Maybe it is. No two fucking snowflakes, am I right? Of course I'm fucking right. I guess it would b...

Ossoff Yeah, what the fuck, I gave that motherfucker some money today. I figured, any motherfucker gets 48 per cent running as a Democrat in the Georgia 6th deserves a little something. So I gave him a little fucking money. Just a little fucking money. And then Act Blue, who coordinates the fucking contributions, was like "Hey--could we get a fucking tip?" And I was like, sure, I'll tip you motherfuckers too, Because 20 percent of the tiny fucking donation I just gave to this motherfucker Ossoff is like nothing anyway, But it's better than fucking nothing. Last week, when Ossoff was polling at like 42 per cent, I was like, "No fucking way is this motherfucker going to win the runoff," But maybe he fucking will. Anyway, it's worth throwing a little fucking money in. Skin in the fucking game. April 19, 2017 FBI Monday, I was about to dock a Citibike Over by the motherfucking ferry, And this guy is like, "Yo, could I borrow yo...

Trump II: Speech* Jesus fucking cocks How do you like the balls on this motherfucking piece of shit? Make the bar so fucking low That that shit looks statesmanlike? That that shit looks good? Fuck that shit And fuck you. But I will say one fucking thing: It's a fucking shame that no Democrat since probably LBJ Would even fucking think of proposing A trillion fucking dollars on infrastructure And I will say fuck yes to that. I will give credit when credit is due Like what that piece of shit Bush did in Africa: A lot of fucking money to fight AIDS, malaria, and other fucked up shit over there Whereas that fuck Reagan took five fucking years to even say the fucking word "AIDS." That piece of shit ratbastard fuck. So fuck yes to Bush fighting AIDS, malaria, and other fucked up shit in Africa And fuck yes to proposing a trillion dollars for infrastructure Even if it never fucking happ‎ens It's a nice fucking gesture It's a lovely fucking gestu‎re So fuck yes I...

Return It's been a long fucking time. I'm not all that into me, but I've kind of fucking missed me. After writing something like a hundred fucking poems in 14 months, This Fuckin' Guy was getting fucking repetitive and pedestrian and boring. To me, at least. And I don't think I was the only fucking one. But, now that 14 more months have gone by (17, actually) And what with the state of the motherfucking union, It feels like there might be a place again For This Fuckin' Guy. Let's see.... February 28, 2017 Trump I* (In Seven Parts) I Well, yeah, of course. Fuck this fucking piece of shit Fuck this piece of shit in his fucking dick With a fucking corkscrew Stick a fucking corkscrew in his dick And screw it in. Hard. Fucking piece of shit. Fuck this fucking motherfucker. II I've been trying to transcend I've been meditating and being all like Live and let live But then this ever changing world in which we live in Made me give in and cr...

Loss Two fucking years ago A month or two after Citibike fucking started up I was like, fucking hell, I hardly ever ride the fucking subway anymore So I stopped getting the monthly fucking unlimited fucking Metrocard And got a pay per fucking ride And I hardly ever fucking paid for a fucking subway ride: For fucking months I'd get on a fucking bike each morning And I'd be like, hey I'm fucking saving money And after a couple of months, Let me fucking tell you, I was the fastest motherfucking Citbike riding motherfucker On the motherfucking bike path Along the fucking Hudson Going south in the morning. Not the fastest fucking bike rider -- There were always some fucking Lycrafucks Who would pass my ass (see " Bike "; the second to last Motherfucking poem I wrote on August 30th of last fucking year; Or hear "Bike,"  here ; I think it's the second fucking track). But never fucking ever did a motherfucker on another Citibike Ever f...

118 A year ago today, This Fucking Guy Wrote his first fucking poem Called " Dragonfly " Whoop-de-fucking- Motherfucking-whoop-de-fucking-do Fucking "Dachshund" and Fucking "Daisy" Were written that day too I just fucking counted How many there have been 117 motherfuckers A motherfucking sin A few are pretty fucking good And a few are fucking not But regardless, 117's A motherfucking lot I posted one motherfucker twice Because it was rewritten But it only counts as one Otherwise, that would be bullshitting And there's a fucking poem called "Cake" Inside another poem I figured, fuck it, that one counts Leave me the fuck alone Anyway, it's been a year a this shit Whoop-de-fucking-dee Happy fucking birthday To motherfucking me 8/5/2015 Book I've been thinking, Fuck me, there are a fuckload Of This Fuckin' Guy poems. Shouldn't there be a fucking book? " Owls " has already be...

Explanation I'm not fucking sure If I explained How my toe got so fucked up. You see, when you go on a fucking long ass motherfucking hike, Particularly when you're hiking downhill, It's very fucking easy To stub your fucking toes On motherfucking rocks. And I did this repeatedly. And if you haven't cut your fucking toenails recently, The motherfucking toenail Will jam down into your toe When you stub that shit on a rock. And the longer the fucking toenail The more that shit hurts. And that toenail, On the right big toe, That shit was long. This Fuckin' Guy Forgets to clip his motherfucking toenails Sometimes. So, my solution (Rather than just fucking remembering To clip those motherfuckers On a regular fucking basis) Is, the next time I plan to go On a motherfucking hike, I'll put a note in my fucking calendar Two days before the hike That says "Clip your fucking toenails." 8/2/2015 Picture Oh, and I already fuck...

Toe Damn my toe got fucked up from that hike last weekend. That shit is black and fucking disgusting. I'm not one to wear sandals, normally, but I was just out walking with some mothefucking sandals on, and motherfuck me, that toe looks like shit. I only first noticed it a couple of days ago. I don't look at my feet a lot. I'm not into feet, like I heard Quentin Tarrantino is really fucking into feet, But I'm not, and even if I fucking was, I wouldn't be into my feet And even if I was into my own fucking feet, I would be like, yo, motherfucking foot over there, I'll see you in a couple of fucking weeks, because that motherfucking toe over there is fucked up. I could take a photograph of it, and maybe I will, but I don't know if I would want anyone to see that shit. It's fucked. I'm not trying to be coy. I'm not trying to play it like, oh, if you talk me into it, I will show you my fucked up fucking toe. Because I won't. This mot...

  Hike   Prologue : First, to expose a fucking artifice for what it fucking is: This is not an actual fucking diary I wrote all of this on the same fucking day (July 27). So, even though I fucking wrote it to make it look like a diary I am not fucking interested in convincing you That this is a fucking diary. Rather, I want to make it crystal fucking clear That this is not, in fucking fact, an actual fucking diary, So as not to be fucking misleading. So let's get fucking started.   Thursday, July 24, 5:30 PM : I'm in the fucking hardware store Having a fucking set of keys made, And the music that is playing Is "Dueling Fucking Banjo's" -- The fucking theme song from fucking Deliverance . The motherfucker making the fucking keys Is talking to me about How the banjos are driving him fucking crazy and he can't fucking think, But I'm thinking about how in two days, I'm sup...

Gym At the fucking gym (Yes, I fucking know. I don't seem like the type to go to fucking gym. I know I certainly don't fucking look like I go to the fucking gym), At the motherfucking climbing gym, (I know, I fucking know), The guy I was climbing with, Asked me about the fucking show At Shea Fucking Stadium, Which is a nightclub in fucking Bushwick. Where I'll be doing Some fucking poems With King Fucking Missile, On June 27th, And Schwervon is fucking playing too. So he says, "I've been climbing with a motherfucking rock star," And I say, "I prefer the term 'has-been.'" And then I said, "Better a has-been than a never was, I guess," In an effort to make myself feel a little fucking better. An effort which fucking failed, Because I don't even fucking know If I'm a fucking has-been Or a motherfucking never was. Oh, fuck me. I'm just in a motherfucking mood today. It will fucking pass, Jus...

IRT On the IRT express going downtown this morning, A motherfucking Mariachi trio sang Besame Mucho And I noticed that I wasn't fucking pissed off at all. They were right fucking next to me And really fucking loud But they sounded great. Or maybe I was just in a good fucking mood. Anyway, I gave them a fucking dollar, because, Why the fuck not? Then, when I changed for the local at Chambers, There's this fucking clown, An actual clown, With a fucking red clown nose, and a big fucking bag full of clown shit. So, I was like, fuck me, I've got write this shit down right now. And I pulled out my motherfucking phone And wrote it down before we got to South Ferry. Fuck yes. 5/21/2015 NBC Then, on the way to the fucking office, I pass the fucking Walgreens, And there's a poster for "Red Nose Day," Some fucking thing that NBC is sponsoring, And I look at the date and it's fucking today. So I'm like, Maybe that fucking clown on the 1 train ...

Rude It's really fucking rude of me To be sitting here, watching Fin Divilly And writing this fucking poem Instead of giving him my undivided attention. I mean, I'm giving him some attention, But it's fucking divided: My time is divided between the lovely fucking performance Fin is giving right now, And this stupid fucking poem I'm writing. I mean, Fin came all the fuck from Ireland, And he's singing some really lovely motherfucking songs, And I'm writing this shit. And that's really motherfucking rude. But what's even fucking ruder Is that after Fin finishes his performance, I'm going to go on next, And read this poem, And maybe one more, And then I'm going to have to leave, And probably not watch any of the other performers. I mean, that's really fucking rude. I'm really fucking sorry. It's just I've got this class in less than an hour, And I've got to get over there. I'm really fucking sorry, I really shouldn't b...

Back? It's been almost five fucking months, and a shitload of shit has happened, But I  haven't fucking felt like fucking writing. That's not exactly fucking true--now and then, I've fucking felt like it. But I fucking didn't. Like, when Winter went on and on and on and fucking on, I thought I'd write a poem about that, But then I fucking didn't. I just fucking didn't. And when Spring finally fucking came, I wanted to write some shit about that as well: I had a couple of fucking epiphanies While looking at some motherfucking trees, And I thought to myself, I'm a motherfucking nature poet, It would be the most natural fucking thing in the world For me to write about this shit. But I fucking didn't. I kept fucking telling myself, Maybe I will, But I fucking didn't. This morning, I was going to get on a motherfucking Citibike, And ride into work like I fucking used to do, But I saw some motherfucker Taking the las...

Weather You know, If I had had Any fucking idea What the temperature was Before I motherfucking left for work I would have brought my fucking bike helmet And rode down here. I feel like I really fucking missed out. But I can't blame the motherfucking weather I should have fucking checked the fucking weather Then I would have fucking known Ok, I just checked the weather It's like 6, maybe 7 degrees Celsius Colder than I fucking thought If I had seen that before I left, I would've been like, "Fuck that, That's too motherfucking cold." But it wouldn't have fucking been It would have been a really nice motherfucking time So what the fuck? What the fuck should I have fucking done? 12/15/2014 Tchaikovsky Yes, 'tis the fucking season When I fucking find myself Listening to a lot of Tchaikovsky Now, I like that motherfucker There are so many nice fucking tunes In the motherfucking Nutcracker That it blows my motherfuck...

Report So a fucking Senate report comes out That is basically the same As the motherfucking Red Cross report from  Two thousand and fucking seven And these motherfuckers all over the fucking place Are acting like this is fucking news? Asking if torture is really fucking torture? Fuck you. I mean, ok: It's not like I fucking go to the mainstream fucking news media For fucking news. I go because I like to know what people are being told.   And of course, people are being told bullshit, Like that old fucking song: "In Leningrad, the people say" (Just fucking google it), But it's fucking worse than that We're all fucking being told, "It's okay, you didn't know." Fuck you you didn't  know. You don't have to read the fucking New York Review of Books (You should, but you don't have to) You don't have to read fucking Truthout, Or The Nation, Or the Progress Report, Or whatever the fuck. To tell y...

Cucumbers Damn, my last poem was almost two fucking weeks ago? Did you fucking miss me? I fucking missed me. What the fuck have I been fucking doing? Well, my job, for one thing-- I do have a fucking job, And a daughter, These are matters of public fucking record, But the real and actual reason I've been a little missing in fucking action Is I haven't had a fucking thing to say. Or like maybe the things I might have thought Would make good fucking poems I'm not so fucking sure about anymore. Like last fucking Sunday, A week ago today, I was at a fucking party, And we were talking about cucumbers, And I was like, "Fuck yes, cucumbers, They are very  really fucking refreshing and shit," And so on, And yes, I really do fucking like fucking cucumbers, But even as I was talking about it, As Ray's motherfucking party, I was thinking, "Fuck me, This Fuckin' Guy Is really scaping the bottom of the motherfucking barrel." And...

Scrape It was bound to fucking happen And it was all my fucking fault And I feel pretty fucking bad about it And I still want to do something about it if I fucking can Or maybe I should fucking let it go. But anyway... So, I'm riding down Broadway, on my way to work (Yes, of course this is another fucking Citibike story), And I get to one of those really narrow fucking sections Where the motherfuckers are doing all this fucking construction So there's only one fucking lane, And there's this cab in the middle of the motherfucking lane, But then it moves the fuck off to the right, Which looks good for me, because I'm on the left, But then it fucking inches back, I think, Or maybe it fucking didn't--maybe I just never had enough fucking room, I don't fucking know. But I hit the brakes,  But I still fucking pass him And in so fucking doing, The fucking handlebar of the motherfucking bike Scrapes across both doors of the motherfucking...

Death [rev.] Considering how fucking old I am I have not experienced a shitload Of pull-your-heart-out-of-your-chest- And-kick-your-fuckikng-ass-from-here-to- I-don't-fuckking-know-where-the-fuck-kinda-deaths. Some. One already this year. But not all that fucking many. But I'm about to. I'm fucking about to. I'm about to experience another fucking one. And I've never, ever, ever in my entire fucking life, Been able to even fucking, fucking try To tell someone who was about to fucking die How much I love them How much they fucking mean How much..I don't fucking know How much fucking everything. But I did. I fucking did. I fucking tried. I fucking tried, at fucking least. I fucking tried. By way of fucking background When we fucking lived together Susannah Fucking Ryan taught me fucking mountains of shit Including a shitload of mystical shit She designed and fucking executed the fantastic fucking record cover For the King Missile album "Mystical Shit" ...

Bag As I rode in this morning, On a fucking Citibike, of course--what the fuck else? I saw this on a fucking tote bag that a woman was carrying: NOW IS BETTER (I think that's what it said - Her fucking arm was obscuring part of the fucking bag). Now, There can be some wisdom in motherfucking tote bags Like the one with that John Waters quote: "If you go home with somebody, And they don't have books, Don't fuck them." That's pretty fucking wise. And maybe this fucking tote bag I saw this morning Has some fucking wisdom to impart But at first fucking blush, I was like Yes--for me, now is better. But it sure isn't fucking better for everybody. And if I had seen that shit a couple of fucking weeks ago, Or even, say, Monday fucking morning , I would have been like, How the fuck is now better? Now fucking sucks. And how about those motherfuckers with Ebola? Or even all those motherfuckers Who are fucking worried about catching Ebola...