(Best) Dream (Ever)

1970s NYC

Patti Smith writes poems for me,
Patti Smith writes poems for me to read,
we recite them slow, together
each syllable in synch,

we crack their cadence
& then we make out


“Try Some, You’ll Like It”

real life Mitch Kramer
The Candy Man
hesher baller
from Flatbush

played basketball in Puerto Rico
after tinklepiss honkie Dodger execs refused to sign him
b/c he was an unapologetic stoner
having showed up to tryouts in a tshirt
w/ pot leaf, captioned
“Try Some, You’ll Like It”

3.33 lifetime ERA
1673 Ks
Pitched No-Hitter Aug 9, 1976
World Series Champ 1979

*smoked mad weed*

PSA: “How To Send a Dickpic”

NEVER send unsolicited dickpics (seriously… gross!)

Upon solicitation, take your dick to the beauty shop & get *did*
(wash & rinse, blowout, trim, a little coconut oil)

Keep your dickart game on point: go B&W or sepia,
don’t be afraid to roll out studio quality work.

“I like that dick, Mapplethorpe?”

Remember: if you wouldn’t want that dick in your mouth,
don’t subject others to it’s nasty mess

The Nutmeg Eaters


2 Tbsp nutmeg

1 Tbsp turmeric

1/4 c maple syrup

1 c sweetened vanilla nutmilk

(whisk thoroughly)


warm orange astringent belches through the nose

flannel mouths sip cool water

sometimes faces burn

fever needle ears ablaze


first timers crumble

under flu-like feels


pendulous kissing betwixt marijuana

& opioid bodyhighs


not much is known about this olde thyme inebriant

trill lifted shrouded fringe,

archaic lean of

wormwood’s longlost

tapping soma

for now-writ ancient poesies





©2016 John Thomas Menesini

From a Window Overlooking Centre Avenue

November’s naked trees

are frozen fits

dancing delirious


wooden nerves

for wooden teeth


brown vines climb

castrated phone poles

perpendicular to power lines

connecting yellow brick block flats


under a slate white sky

bright grey,

where a few smudged clouds

bear bruises


above all the little, little people

down, down below

grinning within

their smoky din




©2016 John Thomas Menesini

Paris of Appalachia



of those veins

run rivers





then  Ohio  taketh away


to port, to port

that cargo Coal

fuel for the  BLAST

besting Hades


flame for licking flame








©2016 John Thomas Menesini

Sexting w/ yr Mom ♥

the earth spins 1037 m.p.h.

i spent the morning sexting w/ your mom


i typed damn, i’m gonna finish                        -hit send-

your mom responded                         lemme see


where do u wanna leave it? lol


everything comes to an end

our sun is no exception

sure, our sun has millions of good years left

but its eventual doom is certain


i imagine me & yr mom in space

(what’s it like to come in space?)

i imagine space is too cold for yr mom

but i bet she’d remember to bring a sweater


in 1.1 billion years the sun will begin to grow

larger and hotter

the earth’s ice caps will melt

and as the planet heats the oceans will boil away,

eventually earth will lose all its water to space,

it will be a hot dry planet


yr mom told me she was so wet

i came in my hand

& took a video to show her

but i got a little on my phone


yr mom likes close-ups of my mouth

yr mom is obsessed with cunnilingus

i tell yr mom

using sexuelle verbs

how i intend to finish her

with my mouth

while your mom finishes herself

with her hand

thinking about my mouth


i tell yr mom

about the sun

& how it is likely

our entire existence is random

that we are spinning 1037 m.p.h.

without reason or meaning


your mom tells me to stop being so fucking goth

& send her more pictures of my mouth





©2016 John Thomas Menesini