next time, close the curtains

i hear laughing
kids on the rooftop
across the alley
one on the fire escape
did they see me masturbate

You Are Every Facebook Friend I Would Ever Want To Have

I have written one thousand poems about you
in my head
all of them started
but never finished
I am scared of the words
I would put down

All of them made of capital letters
All of them made with car crash intensity
All of them a pornography film
All of them a teenage girl’s diary page

i’s dotted with hearts

The Piffle Reading Sessions #9: Skeleton Song(by An Unreliable Witness)

Read the poem

she say haiku

they don't get u dude

plus they think they great ok

send it somewhere else

xoxo

I'm not saying but whenever trains pass each other
    shoulder to shoulder
I press my face to the dirty glass without touching
    and think how pretty
The lights are so pretty to be lights whooshing by
    and the next immediate
Thought is what would it be to be in front of instead
    of next to I wonder idly
Trying to keep from getting headrush and wonky eyes
    I soft focus soft focus
On the train speeding through me and on the thoughts
    in my mind soften
Everything with the tiny selfcare that’s somewhere
    behind the LSD mouth
Cravings and the skin carvings and the face melting and
    the smoke longing
Because I can still see I can still see I can still see
    how pretty you look in your
Bloodied dress when you’re a person under the train making
    the rest of us
Late for lives of babies and spreadsheets I kiss your
    depression clean
And my mouth waters and my face slaps my hand and
    begs me shut up

Tanka of regrettable dunking

She came to my door
With a packet of hobnobs
I said "Please nibble."
She said "I cannot nibble
Your hobnobs; they are soggy."

Stupid American Haiku

What is clotted cream?
What are bangers? What are mash?
I am not British

Haiku of clotted cream

You should not spread that
Where you are now spreading it
Clotted cream's for scones

Slacker

Today will be my day of productivity.
No, really.
I’ve lit nag champa. Music belting. Today
I’ll GET THINGS DONE.

Really, I have had such a productive couple of months.
Whilst I have put off two real life things I have done so
Much BLOGGING. Submitted stories about
Real doll dead girls. Dated some. Done so very much
blogging.

The Possibly Not Very Reliable Witness says
I’m making a zine. Would you like to submit something
one day? I say
I’ll write something RIGHT NOW!


Really, I think I’m excelling at productivity.

My lunar calendar says
New moon tomorrow.
Today’s the day! I think.
Yes it, yes it is. Today’s the day
I won’t procrastinate.

Then I notice I urgently need
hobnobs. And understanding that they’re
most important of all, dash out the door, and then I’m gone.

I think I win at life.

Hymn of self-aggrandisement

I AM EXPERIMENTING
WITH MY CAPS LOCK KEY
I WANT TO WRITE
ALL IN UPPERCASE
LIKE ALL THE COOL
ONLINE LIT KIDS DO
[I am not a cool online lit kid
I am thirty-seven years old
With bad skin and wonky eyes
And a bad case of social dread
But enough about me]
SO YEAH CAPITALS
THIS IS WORKING
I COULD GET USED TO THIS
AND NOW, NOW, NOW
NOW I HAVE TO
BIG UP MYSELF
THAT'S THE RULES, SO:
I AM UNRELIABLE
I'M NOT SELLING IT, AM I?
ERM, OK, MAYBE NOT
MAYBE I'LL BIG UP
PIFFLE INSTEAD
THE FIRST RULE OF PIFFLE
IS THERE ARE NO RULES
THE SECOND RULE OF PIFFLE
IS TO PLEASE REFER TO
THE FIRST RULE
THE THIRD RULE OF PIFFLE
IS TO STOP BEING ANNOYING
AND ASKING FOR THE RULES
ENOUGH ALREADY
AND NOW I HAVE TO
WRITE SOMETHING
OH GOD, I CAN'T DO IT
I HAVE PERFORMANCE ANXIETY
ABOUT WRITING IN CAPITALS
PLUS
I'M GETTING A HEADACHE
I MEAN, REALLY
A REALLY BAD HEADACHE
I'M GOING TO GO AND LIE DOWN
WITH A MOIST TOWELETTE
ON MY BROW
SO THAT'S IT
I HAVE FAILED
AT BEING COOL
I AM NOT COOL
DAMN AND BLAST
OH, WOE IS ME
WOE, WOE AND THRICE WOE
RIGHT, THAT'S IT
AGAIN
DON'T TRY AND STOP ME
I'M GOING NOW
REALLY
YOU CAN'T STOP ME
NO, YOU CAN'T
GOODBYE, CRUEL WORLD
I HATE YOU ALL

Format Abuse

she tosses words around like confetti

until they - (she) - are used up

he says

he says

I like the

happy silence.

the pee girl

the pee chronicles

he goes baybee pee on me

she say pay me first

Denim

Your jeans are filthy

Never wash them 'cause I likes I likes
It all dirty

Maybe imagine them
Unbuttoning
Button after
Button after
Button

Stains like soda and sandwich and
something I-dunno-what's in that cotton, Kitten

Peel it all back
Leave it all crumpled by the bed
Prrrrrrr for me prrrrrrr

For me and

I'll lick you clean

your mindfuck's the best baby

your mindfuck's the best baby
oh my god stars and damns bursting
fireworks and ocean waves
crashing onto the naked shore
i run through the established imagery of
the all-time greatest fucks
everytime i get your message in a bottle
that begins with dear sir/madam
but please sweet sweet fucker
while you're desperately jacking off
into my tight little amygdala
call me mademoiselle

Tanka of regrettable daylight

Fifty minutes sleep
Forty-nine minutes breathing
Eyes weathered open
Wrenched into wakefulness by
Forces beyond my control

\ˈhəsh\ demi-haiku

Tanka of regrettable ... regret?

Come the next morning
This will all be forgotten
Placed in a cellar
Like a neglected uncle
(Who will return for Christmas)

Tanka of regrettable sleeplessness

I miss the milkman's
Electrical dawn whirring
The clink of cow juice
A clue, if it were needed
That the time for sleep is nigh

Haiku of regrettable inebriation

The really bad sign
Comes as the dawn is breaking
Eyeing up the bleach

Tanka of regrettable sobriety

Sober and stupid
Is fine alliteration
For this dead of night
Though the sadder fact remains
That stupidity is free

The Piffle Reading Sessions #8: Hounded(by An Unreliable Witness)

Read the poem

My Inner Monologue Probably Takes Special Ed

The optician is doing that eyeball to eyeball move
they do as part of the exam.
This is maybe the only time that anyone normally
stands quite that close
unless they’re moving in to kiss you
(or just basically unnerving.)

-

HE’S GOING TO KISS YOU!
Laughs my inner monologue
WELL NO HE’S NOT GOING TO KISS YOU
reasons my anti-surreality.
Oh fuck I want to laugh
Mustn’t laugh, mustn’t laugh, you’re not SIX YEARS OLD.



HE COULD KISS YOU !!!!
My mouth quirks into remedial laughter.

The optician is a little guy with glasses on.

Muttering sheepish ‘sorries’ to Mr. Eye Exam
I giggle like he’s eye-tickling me.
He grins and he laughs too.


Ten minutes later he’s looking
just a little bit impatient.


Moron.

The Piffle Reading Sessions #7: Sexual Water by Pablo Neruda

Translation

Piffle Recording Sessions Number Something. The poetry of Mr. D.A. Coe.

Title: The Ride.

Read by your boy.

Morning

Distracting from Rooibos steam

a white-pawed black cat
tip tap dances on stony roofs,
almost-smile, lapping milk-white chinmouth,

And I think, fleeting, how nice it might be
to be an occasional pet –
perhaps just five minutes daily;
a Sunday interlude hand-nuzzle.

Hold the thought, and scribble (purr) you an e-mail
to make you work-desk smile-squirm.

Crushing The Limits Of Maternal Endurance

Not twelve daughters.
Not eight.
Not four.

Just two.


First daughter,
Columbian car crash

Second daughter,
struck down on the streets of Boston

These gifts I give to you...

These gifts I take away...

The Piffle Reading Sessions #5: Foxy Knoxy reads 2 haikus***

*Cut the girl's voice some slack: it's late, she's drunk, has a slight cough and her voice is hoarse from partying all weekend - I mean, crying. Her voice is hoarse from crying.

**All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No flatmates were harmed in the making of this recording.

I'm not a Christian

Let’s go trip down stained glass pathways.
Play crucifix fingernails like keys
for sneaking doorways.
Your tongue’s the host;
I ate already.
And no salvation / redemption / life long sermons.
We’re only here for the free wine.

she is 16 hrs in the future haiku

Rina says your wang

is weeping i can feel it

in my waters boy

Converse All Stars

1. Tie shoelace around neck, one each
2. Stand back to back
3. On the count, over-shoulder pull
4. Fly
5. Crash
6.

billy writes amanda knox a haiku letter

dig your beatles shirt

and oh that quick fake sweet smile

sneak me in your cell

Shamefully becket-t-ing

Uncle Samuel was 41
when he amputated his tongue (say: BIID).
His heart now full of debris, rotten teeth,
fractured ankles and – from time to time –
he is resolute.
If I’m still awake at dawn
I see I do look like him;
same old citalopram’s a-dripping,
the newscast as a coercive ultimate anaesthetic.
"Let it happen", Sammie says,
"as long as we are still around."
The tanks ask their way to Lhasa or Gaza
for the usual reprisal;
and the papal ex-communication,
to let me know my clitoris is outlaw.
"Last night I saw inside my breast", Sam says.
"There was a big sore."
Pah! You saw your heart.
"No", he answers, "it was living."

tPRS #4

The Piffle Reading Sessions #3

Here is my audio gift to you, dear PIFFLE fans, to see you through the weekend. The timing is indeed most fortunate, because it will probably take you most of the weekend to listen to it in full.



P.S. Please don't laugh.
P.P.S. I am quite shy in real life.

I CAN BE SICK!

hold my face
with your Chlamydia hands

I can be sick.
I can be sick.

there are frozen bagel sticks now
microwave them for 10-15
seconds
bite and chew them

CREAM CHEESE ALREADY INSIDE!

my crotch is a cloudy suffocated mess
I scrape it with my trusty spatula
the goo collects like runny plaster
whites and grays
reds and browns
greens?

I flick it at your face

I can be sick!
I can be sick!

Tanka of lost vocabulary #1

I sift through the words
Searching for one that will fit
In which I can hide
Like a hamster seeking sleep
In a cardboard toilet roll

The PIFFLE Reading Sessions #2

post removed. enough already. [Ed note: Let's not make a habit of it, rockstar. —Ani]

[Rockstar note: Dude that was horrible and we all know it. Had to go.]

The PIFFLE Reading Sessions #1

A Retard Reads Three Poems

Poke your eye out with that thing

I'm going through a period of abundance
Producing like mad
Everything glows and begs to be written
I'm wearing heavy navy eyeliner
47 tons of black mascara and an a-line dress
Blue tights, knee-high boots
And I feel like I could titty-fuck the entire world with my hard fat pen
I am fucking well endowed
The comedown is bound to be epic

Short and ineffective poem upon the occasion of my vanishing from the face of the Earth

Dear Planet,

I have had it with you
You are intensely annoying
And you smell of carbon monoxide

I am leaving you all
It's over, we're through
I have gone to a better place

I am now living blissfully
In the anonymous online catalogue
Of a commercial stock photo library

Where it is always sunny
Where people are fit and lithe
Where skin is always smooth

Search for me, if you must
Type the term 'inane'
Press Go, and there I'll be

Everyone here has dead eyes
And not a thought in their heads
We stay still all day

I'll see you soon, staring
From the pages of a lifestyle monthly
Airbrushed into idiocy

truth ruth haiku

i don't want to write

another poem i just

want to chill with girls

I'm not trying to shock you, I promise, I just have a one-track mind

little drunky smith
she said she loves you
and she does in her way
sticks her tongue out
crosses her eyes
fuck she's fun
makes a V with her fingers
waggles her tongue
and continues to sway
to the tune
in her mind

let's play with death
tonight
cut my oxygen
and watch me breathe
for the first time

There are too many monkeys in my hall

Given up on bottle tops
Given up on wooden toys
Given up on matchsticks
And given up on stamps

Counting and counting
I am discovering
Every single species
Of monkey in the world

My new direction
My new collection
My new obsession
My new predilection

Bring me the head of
Every dead monkey
Bring me the head of
Every murdered ape

Shape their mouths
Open wide their eyes
Flare their nostrils
Moulding monkey masks

Looks of horror
Looks of terror
Looks of laughter
Looks of murder

The heads of monkeys
Suspended from ropes
Staring, still stare
From my whitened walls

Be my monkey, please

(Flippin') Sweet Jesus

Jesus was my cashier at
In-N-Out today
He made my Double-Double
calorie-free

After I thanked him
we made small talk
(lunch rush was over)
Bonded quite a bit and
I thought, Jesus is pretty fuckin’ cool.

On my way out he goes
“Pssst….”
so I lean in and he says,
“Go to Red Lobster Monday night,
I’m making all the food look like it does on
the commercials.”

“Fuckin’ sweet!” I say.
“Whoops, pardon my French Jesus.”

“No worries my son…it’s all good.”

Then he fist pumped me.

Oh Amanda

rock my socks miss knox.

kill. smile for the camera.

and sing in your cell.

haiku (Doctor) Who*

woo hoo woo eee ooo

woo hee hoo woo woo eee ooo

dum dum a der dum

* Please note amended title.
My advice is to try singing the haiku.

haiku you

hold me in your hands

hey make the winds go away

kiss me on my eyes

hALLENucination # 1

I saw
the best minds
of your generation
waiting for
the worst minds
of my generation.
You wanted to rescue
You wanted to heal
You were meant
to forget and forgive.
You saw
the nonsensical yet innocuous
hope we stored
(being threatened, yes)
(resting potential, I guess.)
All you could say
was: I saw
I saw them I'm sure
they haven't seen anything
yet.

Thoughts of a common pigeon sitting on a balcony in south-west London on a cold dark evening in February (following snow)

Coo

Cough

Coo

Coooocococough

Fuck me, it's freezing
I need more feathers
I asked Bert if I could
Borrow his feathers
He said no
That's the last time
I share my worms
With him

Coo

Cooooo

Coo?

Who?

Shut up, I was here first
No, I was here first
It's my balcony
My fucking balcony
Look there - there, see?
That's my shit on the wall
It is it is it bloody well is
Smell it and see

Coo

Cough

I've got a cold
Can pigeons get colds?

In all my years
As a pigeon
I have never seen
A sneezing pigeon

Coo

Coo

I can't even get any fun
Out of shitting
On people's heads

Coo

Because it's too cold
And I'm constipated
Who ever heard
Of a constipated pigeon?

Coo

Coo

Cooooo

Cough

Splutter

Mom's gonna be sooooo mad

Ani!
Aniiiiii!!!!!!!
ANNE-KNEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
Mom says come in from the cold
Brush the snow off your jeans
Brush the wine stains off your lips
The boss wants you ready to give him head
In TWO minutes
On your knees, cocksucker ha ha
ANI!!!
Mom says you have to go NOW
Ow! Don't pinch me! MOM!!!!!!
Ani pinched me!!!
You're gonna be sorry
You'll see

It's Sad, So Sad, So, So SO Sad...

Listen up children and hear my sorry tale
And if it gets too harrowing you can always bail
I had a little Lily and I loved her very much
I trembled and I quivered at her very touch
But wait up children for this is woeful
And will explain my face so doleful
One day I mislaid her in the folds of my bed
And the next time I saw her she was very dead
Take heed from me children and don’t do as I do
Or you’ll find your life will be coloured with blue
Don’t wash your bedclothes the way that I did
A water-logged lily is sadly horrid
Keep your sex toys safe in their little boxes
Don’t let them fall in and drown with your soxes.

it blew my mind when i saw your glory hole video on youporn baybee girl haiku

shocked me soft shh love

had to go thru that shit twice

unbelievable