I was on a family vacation in motherfucking shitballs New Mexico this weekend.

“The Land of Enchantment?” Fuck. Off. Should be, “New Mexico: It’ll do.”

We didn't try that hard.

After hiking to 11,000 feet and promptly drinking a gallon of tequila, but before I remembered I’m really unused to any kind of elevation, I wrote some fucked-up poetry in a style too beautiful for the awful things I say and do.

For this, I’m sorry.

Stop being mean, sir
While you checkout in Kroger
I’ll rip your nuts off.

The unique event
Of biting through a diaper
Is an awful thing.

Dry mouth, drier mouth.
What the fuck is in that thing?
Baby ass is hell.

Oh diner toilet,
Why is a skylight on you?
It’s fucking weird, yo.

Fucked-up poop skylight
It’s like peeing for Jesus.
Jesus, stop looking.

Dear diner toilet,
Why are you outside?
Get back in the stall.

I laughed while peeing.
It was a strange happening,
The weirdest toilet ever.

Six chickens died here
In this shitty old diner
With the weird toilet.

I named my hoohoo.
Her name is Lupita now.
She is Latina.

I’m not Latina.
But it’s kind of a taco.
That’s very racist.

Why keep punching things?
Bugs are immune to fists, Grace.
Oh, nope, nevermind. 

Lana grabbed my boob.
Should be weird, but it is not.
We’re a weird family.

– 

Why the crying, babe?
Is it hunger or fear-based?
You could use a shot.

Tequila cures all,
And goes well in sippy cups.
I should well know, too.

Sippy cup boozing
Has now rendered me shithoused.
Now too drunk to hold baby.

Sorry for the balls
Didn’t aim to hit you there
Tough to aim shithoused.

What’s your recent experience via poetry?

Favorite Comment From The Last Post:
From Rachael: “The tweety-bird shirt phenomenon (as well as any other overly large cartoon character) is something doctors look out for in their adult patients. The presence of such a shirt immediately puts them on high alert for Borderline Personality Disorder, so don’t wear one to your next appointment. And don’t break anything or get stabbed while wearing one, either. THE MORE YOU KNOW.”

 

@OutofGoldStars August 1, 2011 at 6:16 am

For heavens sake. The obligatory drinking on a family vacation does not mean you have to write about eating diapers. Family vacations suck balls. Drink up.

Fresh Out of Gold Stars
@OutofGoldStars recently posted..shit my students say and do

Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:55 pm

Hand to God, I bit into a diaper this weekend. It’s a very weird story, and it was a clean diaper, but I did it.

the letter m August 1, 2011 at 6:48 am

my day in haiku … (complete with seasonal reference!)

i hate my iphone
the damn thing wont stop beeping
i will flush the thing

all i do is type
i am chained to the keyboard
working blows big chunks

drizzling rain outside
how many months does this last
fuck i hate winter
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Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:56 pm

My iPhone thinks I mean Shabbadoo more than I ever actually mean it. Which is never. I never mean to say Shabbadoo.

hoodyhoo August 1, 2011 at 7:00 am

thank GAWD “M” did haikus before me, I couldn’t remember the rules! Okay, here was my weekend:

Hundred-pound rat, NO!
Midget Elvis so scary
BBQ in hair.

Too drunk, need to sit
Genius plan to climb bleachers
DAMMIT CHUCKWEASEL!

I love that the phrase “Dammit, Chuckweasel” is haiku-ready!
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Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:57 pm

Where. The fuck. Were you this weekend. Midget elvis?

Dear Sweet Mama August 1, 2011 at 8:44 am

I love haiku. Thank you for starting my day with these lovely renderings. I think.

Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:57 pm

I hope I didn’t drive you back into your motorcycle gang.

Kate August 1, 2011 at 8:47 am

God Almighty, New Mexico does that to me every time…what is it about that place that makes mostly sane people completely crazy?? I haven’t drank tequila at high elevations, but I have wanted to chase people with a bat and set fire to houses. Oh, and pick up all the roadside trash. There is just so much of it!

Also, I have no poetry, but I am almost 9 months pregnant, so I have an excuse.

Kate
idreamloudly.com
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Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:59 pm

New Mexico is not my favorite place to be, but you can be damn sure that Tequila is my favorite thing to drink while inside of it. New Mexico–like having sex with a dirty whore.

Padded Cell Princess August 1, 2011 at 10:37 am

Are you sure there wasn’t a worm in that tequila that was really a drug mule and had miniature balloons of cocaine hidden up it’s little tequila worm sphincter and messed with your mind??? If not, you can probably use tequila worm sphincter in your next poem.
Padded Cell Princess recently posted..Weekend Happenings

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:00 am

I think I may have
Tequila worm in sphincter
Goddamn it worm. Stop.

Andi August 1, 2011 at 10:42 am

My week in review:

I left my heart in San Francisco
Came home to a full DVR
I need to change the cat box
And the oil in the car.

What will I do on this day
I haven’t had a break since Wed.
How about shopping at Tar-jay?
Then I think I’ll go back to bed.

The kids can make their own fun
They’ve had plenty of practice
As long as they don’t touch the guns
Or climb around in the attic.

I’ve never been to New Mexico
Nor drank a gallon of tequila
But I think I’m less likely to write poetry
Than sleep with a tranny named Sheila.
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Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:02 am

I’m not even fucking joking when I say I literally ran into a Tranny in New Mexico who could have been a Sheila. I will tell her you called.

Also–YOU ARE FUCKING GLORIOUS.

Justine August 1, 2011 at 10:57 am

My experience at work so far today, in haiku:

Playing a game called
‘who the fuck peed in my desk
chair?’ No winners here.
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Kella August 1, 2011 at 3:43 pm

Your desk chair now smells of urine and failure.

Also, the tears of vertically-challenged, indigent violin players.

I suspect them of chair vandalism, between you and me.
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:04 am

Urine and failure was the smell in a bathroom I peed in today.

Kella August 2, 2011 at 12:54 am

It’s the smell of New Mexico.

They say it’s enchanted, but really, it’s the pot talking.

Lots and lots of pot.
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:03 am

Justine.

1) when you find out, please tell me.
2) This was fucking spectacular. It was a beautifully designed haiku and It made me weep with laughter.

Justine August 2, 2011 at 10:38 am

There are only 7 of us that work here and I haven’t seen any mountain lions run through the building recently, so narrowing it down shouldn’t be this hard.

Saraellenawesome August 1, 2011 at 11:00 am

I am not a poet
and i totally know it
I don’t really care tho
quit looking at me ho!

I got a peacock at target
you probably wish you did too
i dont know what rhymes with target
but the peacock is badass, foo….?

eh, I tried. New Mexico sucks. I left a pillow there once. My freakin favorite pillow.
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Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:05 am

New Mexico eats all things good.

I really liked the Jazzy Mr. T ending on your poem. It was almost rap. Almost.

Kella August 2, 2011 at 12:57 am

I’m laying the blame at your feet for the mental image that is now stuck in my head. (I’m not even sure it’s really your fault, but you’re as convenient a target as any…)

1.) Pillow lost in New Mexico.
2.) Noa pronounces New Mexico eats all things good.
3.) Kella immediately gets an anthropomorphized image of the entire state of New Mexico biting a goddamned pillow.
4.) Kella manages to follow that mental image with the related image of New Mexico taking it up the ass from Texas.
5.) Kella has now convinced herself that steers and queers do, indeed, come from (and for) Texas.

Fin.
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

Noa August 8, 2011 at 5:36 pm

I feel a little dirty.

Tazer WP August 1, 2011 at 11:09 am

Well, at least you kept your clothes on…..

Tequila is a bitch.
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Kella August 1, 2011 at 3:43 pm

Tequila is misunderstood.

Clothing is best worn on the floor.
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:06 am

That you know about I kept my clothes on.

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:06 am

Tequila and I are no longer best friends. NEVER AGAIN, PATRON.

Kella August 1, 2011 at 11:11 am

Christ Almighty, Noa. If I’d known you while I lived in New Mexico (I lived in Socorro, which is the ass pimple on the puckered anus of questionably enchanted lands…), my life there would have been infinitely less boring.

My favorite is:

Our train runs
North to South
On days ending
With the letter ‘y’.
Please be careful
Not to miss it
Else our enchanted
Sun will make you fry.
Motherfucker.

Because every poem about the New Mexico Rail Runner service should end in “Motherfucker.”

And because I had to compensate for Samuel L. Jackson’s refusal to read that aloud at the last SAG dinner. The fact that his refusal came gift-wrapped in a restraining order did nothing to abate my resentment.
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:08 am

1) New Mexico makes everything boring and shitty because it is New Mexico. You leave a new person.

2) That’s a sad poem, much like motherfucking New Mexico.

3) Whyyyyyyy…..New Mexico and Samuel L. Jackson?

Kella August 2, 2011 at 12:14 am

Well, I can only assume that both New Mexico and Samuel L. Jackson saw it coming: the day when I would design an actual twatwaffle magnet/button/whatthefuckever.

You see, I was very, very stoned. And, for some reason, I thought that (in the midst of my “holy fuck, craft as if your life depends on it!” freakout from financial stress) a tiny clay eggo waffle with a goddamned honest-to-god twat on it would be a good idea.

Also, I made a lunch box with a penis in it.
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

ColinP August 1, 2011 at 1:33 pm

My day so far:

I sent you an email
you did not read it, dumb ass
strangle you I shall
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Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:09 am

I think this would make an excellent memo to your coworkers. Stylishly passive aggressive.

Kella August 2, 2011 at 1:01 am

It’s kinda like a Yoda-turned-office-dominant with focus on humiliation and asphyxiation.

Of course, now I’m picturing a wrinkled green muppet with grammatical confusion, dressed in leather, screaming, “Hurt you, I will, hmmm? Strong in you the Force will be… it will be…”

This has been a very strange day for me. And that’s fucking saying something.
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

HeathRobots August 1, 2011 at 1:51 pm

MY WEEKEND IN POETRY FORM:

90 degrees out & wearing a scarf
to look at the dead bloated deer.
the deer is better off than me.
{BEING AN EXTRA IS NOT GLAMOROUS}

watching a 7 yr old
school me on dance moves
to salt n peppa’s “push it”
i’m too old for this shit.
{DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION}

divorced moms triple kissing
so much alcohol
this place smells like tears
and enchiladas
{YIKES! BAR OF DESPERATION}

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:10 am

Tears and Enchiladas may have been a drink that my brother in law had this weekend when he took a shot of Vodka and Jalapeno Juice.

That he promptly threw up everywhere.

Jaclyn August 1, 2011 at 2:08 pm

Don’t go in the water
Shark week is here
Don’t go in the water
You’ll have reason to fear
They can smell it for miles
They will come to the beach
They will bite your fucking leg off
For wearing a tampon at the beach

Yeah, that’s right. It’s about my period. I rhymed beach with beach. AND WHAT?
Jaclyn recently posted..Knock it Off, 13 Year Old Girls

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:11 am

Now I’ll be afraid of sharks during my time of being unclean. SHARK MOTHERFUCKER.

Jaclyn August 1, 2011 at 2:09 pm

Also, my only experience with tequila ended with me nearly breaking my ankle and waking up with my waist in the leg hole of my destroyed underwear. DON’T DRINK TEQUILA.
Jaclyn recently posted..Knock it Off, 13 Year Old Girls

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:12 am

That’s some kinda blowout to end up like that. I just ended up with skinned knuckles from slamming my chest into Adrian’s.

Jaclyn August 1, 2011 at 2:16 pm

I will kick you in the face
I will kick you in the dick
You’d better get me ice cream
Or I will murder the fuck out of you
Stop talking
The sound of your voice kills kittens

This was the emotions attached to the above period. Less rhymey, but it gets the point across, don’t you think?
Jaclyn recently posted..Knock it Off, 13 Year Old Girls

Kella August 1, 2011 at 2:28 pm
Jaclyn August 1, 2011 at 3:02 pm

haha… you should. And you should explain that shit to my husband.

Kella August 1, 2011 at 3:40 pm

I don’t have periods at the moment, so my husband is extremely lucky.

I think he borrows my PMS and takes it on walks, however. It’s been seeing a lot more action around this house than I have…
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:13 am

@Jaclyn: I’m really enjoying you venting here poetically. It’s like a bloody poetry slam.

@Kella: We all do.

Kella August 2, 2011 at 12:52 am

It’s like a bloody poetry slam.

…I see what you did there.
Kella recently posted..My soul is not for sale. I’ll consider fair rental fees, however…

Noa August 8, 2011 at 5:37 pm

Cue the trombones!

Satan August 1, 2011 at 4:44 pm

if you don’t get your
hands off my fucking sandwich
i will stab your face.
———-
you’re really watching
that stupid cop show, AGAIN?
it’s burning my eyes.
———-
just because i’m not
wearing underwear under
pajamas… hands OFF!
———-
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Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:15 am

There’s another great sin–touchin’ ma fucking sandwich. HANDS OFF ASSHOLE.

The Wannabe Housewife August 1, 2011 at 6:18 pm

I’m not Latina.
But it’s kind of a taco.
That’s very racist.

Fun-fucking-tastic!

I mean seriously, I think I might have peed a little from laughing so hard while reading this.
The Wannabe Housewife recently posted..Kidnapping and Rodney Atkins: A Match Made in Hell

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:15 am

Why thank you very much.

Lupita thanks you as well.

Angie August 1, 2011 at 7:41 pm

Bloody Mary in my glass
How empty you became so fast
Gone too soon only olives to eat
Drunk off my ass can’t find my feet
Friday morning felt so poor
Quoth my liver…
Nevermore.
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Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:17 am

I have a deep and abiding love of Edgar Allen Poe, and now, you as well.

elizabeth- flourish in progress August 1, 2011 at 8:24 pm

i’ve been sitting here for five minutes. I think I have performance anxiety. And I don’t even have a penis. Fuck. Shit. Damn. I’ll be back. I have to go climb a mountain, drink some stuff and bite some stuff and then I’ll be ready to do this.
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Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:19 am

Let me recommend not to bite diapers–even clean ones like I did. Don’t do it. I didn’t want to even, but I did so.

And really, fuck shit damn posed in the right way could be beautiful poetry.

Fuck.
Shit.
Damn.

FIN, FUCKERS.

Miss Sassy Pants August 1, 2011 at 11:24 pm

Just reading this made me thirsty.

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:19 am

Tequila helps.

nadine August 1, 2011 at 11:53 pm

my mother, the cunt.
that alcoholic bitch-face.
drives me to spite drink.
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Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:21 am

I fist pumped in the air at this.

nadine August 1, 2011 at 11:54 pm

jaclyn, my best friend
spite drinks right along with me.
period drinking.
nadine recently posted..30 Day Blog challenge: Day Six

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:22 am

Shall I recommend Tequila once again?

Jaclyn August 2, 2011 at 8:02 am

I already told you, Noa… NO TEQUILA FOR ME!

nadine August 2, 2011 at 4:20 pm

i did have a margarita. i knew tequila needed to be inside me yesterday. i might need to follow suit today… i’m still just so pissed off.
nadine recently posted..30 Day Blog Challenge: Day Seven

nadine August 1, 2011 at 11:55 pm

fuck warning labels,
“do not take with alcohol”
xanax and vodka.

_fin.

I’ve had a rough day and I legit have an awful mother. luckily I have a great bff who will go out for drinks at the drop of a hat.
nadine recently posted..30 Day Blog challenge: Day Six

Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:23 am

I’m sorry you had a shitty day–your bff is pretty goddamn funny, so I’m glad she can cheer you up as well.

But you do write some killer haiku while angry.

Meg August 2, 2011 at 12:22 am

I haven’t tried writing any poetry, but, I’m pretty fucking inspired after reading that you’ve named your vagina Lupita.
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Noa August 2, 2011 at 12:23 am

And yours can be named Mauricia.

Meg August 3, 2011 at 3:38 am

Lupita and Mauricia. This gives me uncontrollable giggles.
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Poof August 2, 2011 at 11:48 am

My friend and I used to email each other haikus to pass the time at our shitty jobs. A personal favorite was the day chinchillas were brought into the office. This haiku followed:

I hate chinchillas
Furry beasts of hades
Burn, rodentia, burn.

Noa August 11, 2011 at 1:10 pm

DAMN YOU CHINCHILLA.

Tans August 2, 2011 at 12:19 pm

Weekend was a blur
Mental health day yesterday
Didn’t help a bit

Week not looking great
Being the adult sucks bad
Pass the tequila

Noa August 11, 2011 at 1:11 pm

Tequila does everyone well.

Rachael August 2, 2011 at 4:49 pm

Huh. I feel like our Monday brains were about in the same place. Also, I took a poetry class last semester and this is better than most of the shit my classmates wrote. Maybe Gallon Tequila Poetry should be its own genre, its power and beauty eclipsing the like of Seamus Heaney or Robert Frost in mere weeks.
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Noa August 11, 2011 at 1:11 pm

I was thinking Dorothy Parker with a limp.

wagthedad August 4, 2011 at 1:02 pm

Goddammit. All of my lucid moments are gone by the time I get here now, because fucking work has rendered Oh Noa “Dangerous.” Not “A security risk” or “Blocked because of porn” or “Too many dicks and clits here” but “Dangerous.”

Without explanation. Which I think is kind of fucking awesome, because wagthedad is not “dangerous,” though I want to be, or something like it.

But it fucking sucks because I don’t get here until after the kids have gone to bed and I’m halfway to three sheets to the wind (that would be 1.5 sheets to the wind, which still counts as social drinking where I live), but my goddamn mind is blown.

And so I cannot do haiku.

I pluck
The redfaced nipple
And now I wonder why this shoe is in my ass.

I smelled you
On the train because your armpit was there
Your licey lupita nearly did my joint.

Meeting you that day in June
Was kind of like when you find a not-yet-gone
Plate of dirty nachos in the trash
And you know you can go home and warm it up.

Fuck I suck.

Thanks Noa. Sorry it took me four days to get here.

Goddammit I suck. But I am awesome, too.
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Noa August 11, 2011 at 1:12 pm

I can’t get past the most amazing compliment of being called dangerous. THAT’S RIGHT MOTHERFUCKERS.

Casey August 4, 2011 at 4:28 pm

“But it’s kind of a taco.”

In SF, if you got a hooker in the wrong part of the city, you could be heard to scream, “I ordered a taco and I got a burrito!”

Noa August 11, 2011 at 1:13 pm

I’m wondering what that might be in Thailand as well.

Alexandra August 11, 2011 at 1:34 am

I’m not Latina.
But it’s kind of a taco.
That’s very racist.

Killing me–in such a good way.

TY.
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Noa August 11, 2011 at 1:15 pm

Don’t eat tacos that will kill you. Trust me.

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