Poetry Volume #1: Facebook, Deadpool, Spam, Liz Lemmon


For Distribution: Literary Journals (fee-paying only)

Poetry Volume #1

by Oscar Bernie



I like your post!

Admission for one to your freaky-freak show.

I like my friends in bite-size pieces and

I’ll redact your irrelevant comments.

I want you to dance for me, a meme or a memory.

Do it NOW or get lost in the algorithm and disappear.

Another statistic to Big Data.





I wish I were a bird.

So I could fly … far, far away.

Then I’d return and crap on your windshield when you least expect it.  ‘Cause I hate you.



Deadpool — A Haiku

Deadpool is real sweet.

Talks to you about comics,

Then he shoots you dead.




I wish I could take all of your love

And leave you dry and gasping.

I would drink it like milk and grow stronger with Vitamin D.

Then I would bring down the sun, to fill you with light.

You would be full again.  And have a mild sunburn.




You like Hermes handbag?

I sell you to confusion good product.

I give you real happy with my website.  Long appeal to users.

Nike make good for all happy.  Be friends always.



Liz Lemon

Your penchant for ice cream mesmerizes.

Your nerdy stare is so come-hither that I wonder if you forgot your glasses and just can’t see me.

Somewhere behind the snark lies a person.

A person who can’t see the truth.

A person who can’t smell the lies.  Or the day-old milk curdling on the table.

A person who runs into people and trips over office furniture.

But your heart is full of pain.  And your stomach is full of sandwiches.  And little cakes that make you feel full for a minute

And then you’re left without sugar and empty.  Slightly confused.

Do you see me smiling at you Liz?  Will you accept me into your page program?

Or will you find your glasses and realize that I’m a stranger.  That you never knew me.  And that you never will.




My Own Castle

One day I’ll live like the billionaires live

In my castle on the hill.

We’ll LARP like peasants and eat endangered species.

We’ll learn to speak Romanian and beat the serfs.

I want to be lazy with you and count the days

Since I’ve checked my bank statement.

Come with me, to my own castle.

We’ll dance and make out under a cherry tree.

We’ll burn a pile of cash and laugh

At the losers who live like we used to.





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