Volume One, Issue 3

Big Punkass

Shane Allison

You are such a punkass
All anti-social held up in your room
Chain smoking, only coming out to take a piss
To make yourself something microwavable in the kitchen
You big punkass
With your scratchy morning voice
From all the cigarettes
You like show tunes
What a punkass thing to prefer
You talk to no one and no one likes you
Come out here and face me like a man you punkass
If I ever see you I’m going to kick your punkass
All over this apartment building
Just because you are nothing to me
Nothing but a great big punkass
Only a wussyboy would leave notes under room doors,
Pink, punkass post-its on the medicine cabinet mirror
About eating his food.
So what if I eat your cereal,
Drink your apple juice right out of the carton?
What are you going to do about it,
Call your mommy?
Tell the landlord?
I don’t care. I do what I want around here
You punkass
I wash my ass with your lavender bath gel
It was me who ate your last frozen fish fillet
I did it to piss you off
Because you are the big punkass I can’t stand
I’m going to pulverize you,
Stomp you into nothing
You punkass jerk
You make me sick
More than sick
More than sick could ever make me
You are a great big punkass
And I’m taking it upon myself to rid the world of you

Shane Allison: "I have had poems published in Unlikely Stories, The Brooklyn Rail, The West Wind Review, Spork, Chiron Review, Best Gay Erotica, Best Black Gay Erotica and others. I have authored two poetry collections. I Remember (Future Tense Books) and Slut Machine (Queer Mojo Press). My debut novel You're The One I Want debuted from Strebor Books last year. My third collection, Personal (Inferior Noise Press) will be out this fall."

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