Fowl: a mockery of "Howl"

Treasa Bane


To the coffee shop owners whose coffee is alright at first and then they wonder why their business fails, their business fails because they don’t want to take peoples order, they get pissed off when the line is longer than 3 people, they don’t like the gift cards they sell, they want cold hard cash, they hire 12 year olds who only care about weed, they shut down, they start back up, they move to the other side of town, they fuck up

To the hair cutters in salons who cut hair alright at first and then they started going praying mantis on you, cutting too close to the head, cutting too short or not cutting enough, charging extra, not bothering to wash your hair first, melting your ears off with the blow dryer, buttoning the sheet too close around your neck so by the end of your visit you haven’t breathed and you’re dizzy and stray hairs are still in your eyes and you’re sent to the counter to pay before you even glanced at your head

To my third grade secret actor romance, true as love is true

Pouring wet dreams into my too tight tennis shoe


Shoe carnival, what the fuck


Walmart, what the fuck


When the lizards take their pills


Tasting cement on the windowsills


You know the drills


Fucking three blade wind mills


To the self-claimed rappers


To the cell phone tappers


To the masturbators


To the French fried potators


To the experimental


To the fucking mental


To the weak, the strong, the weird


To the fecal matter, smeared


To the awesome movie dialogues


To the beer, pong, sex hogs


To the girls in movies who look peaceful while taking showers with smiling faces and embracing their

bodies while the real girl probably scrunches her eyes because her water pressure could cause welts if you stay in longer than 10 minutes and it’s not a harmonious experience at all

To the people in movies who talk quietly in bars like their having a conversation at a café rather than a techno, beat boxing, sound thudding claustrophobic space in which you couldn’t hear if someone cried rape or fire

To the people who talk way to fucking fast


To the people who talk about themselves


To the people who talk about their opinions


To the people who talk


To Dane Cook’s sexist, mental facebook statuses I never want to read but I end up doing so anyway

To the people who should keep their eyes on the road, but they watch you in their rear views, they ride your ass and as you’re turning you see their face turned 90 degrees for what? To see who it was? Do you recognize me because I certainly do not recognize you unless it was in another life when we were both cats


America the ice has fallen on your faces!


America you’re taking us to horrible places!


America! There’s stains on your pits!


America show us your tits!


Where Are you there god its me Margaret was banned!


Go home, Channing Tatum, you don’t understand!


David!!! Help me, I’ve lost my son at a garage sale!


Don’t call me anything. My body is woman but I feel like a male!


Strap on!


Rock on!


Get your freak on!


Talk to me like you’d talk to the dead air in a recording studio


Talk to me talk to me talk to me when you’re in the moodio


This poem is Fowl


Give me a howl


Am I hear


My boobs look the same, every year


Give me a sign!


Drop your eyes on the pine


Covered in wine


Sleeping with swine


“Kissing in the dark”


Echoes through Kroger, a hark


Harold angel sing?


I never know the words. Bring,


You’re hearts next time I see you


I know they’re small and blue


Just like your penis




That was the rat in The Secret of Nyhm


I’ve lost too many secrets, to Bob and Tim


Bob and tim don’t exist for anyone else other than me


They’re the old men who dwell in my house, outside in the tree


Laughing at everything I say


This house is bugged, today

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790