Thursday, February 15, 2007


DAVID LAWTON trained as an actor at Boston University, and was a Guest Artist in the graduate playwriting classes taught there by Nobel Laureate (in poetry) Derek Walcott. He has acted Off-Broadway and in the film Naked in New York, had his plays produced Off-off Broadway, and sang background vocals for ten years with the downtown New York band Leisure Class. He has featured his poetry at Saturn Series, Stark, the Times Square Shout-out, and The Yippie Museum CafĂ© (with John Sinclair). He has been published in Stained Sheets, Erato, Cripple, not to mention Hobo Bob’s blog. Read more about David here. (Photo by David Elssasser)


“If there is old flour in the cupboard, throw it out.”

What was that?

“If there is old flour in the cupboard, throw it out.”

A year and a half from the time she walks out on me,
That’s her afterthought?

Poor old flour. Whatever did you do to be the
One thing that could’ve gotten into her craw
And make her turn back. I hope you make it gnaw!
I’m jealous of you, flour. I’m almost mad at you.
But I cannot do you in, for I’m becoming old too.
If I dump you in the trash, I’m no better than her.
To give up on you is a kind of murder.
If I throw you out, where does it end?
Where do I begin? What kind of message does it send?
Should I get rid of everything that she ever touched?
Twelve years of history shouldn’t mean that much?
Maybe I should just firebomb this place.
Incinerate it clean. Do not leave a single trace.
I’ll tell you why not. I don’t want to be too alone.
A flour can make a man smile. Can’t you throw a dog a bone?
I’m sure she was afraid that the flour would attract bugs
Who would root down in it as if finding mom’s dugs.
How they’d get inside the zip-lock is a separate mystery.
A spontaneous generation of some kind of cooties.
Hey – maybe they’ll bake me cookies like she sometimes used to do.
Beggars can’t be choosers. You gotta take what’s offered you.
That flour’s Enriched, Unbleached, All-Purpose.
These bugs might grow like they’re on ‘roids.
To analyze where this is going might take a gross of Sigmund Freuds.
When these mutant weevils bust out of the cupboard,
They smell distinctly of female musk.
I will readily submit myself to their ravishment
If they promise to properly dispose of my husk.

- David Lawton


Spin me a pinner
Whirl me a winner
Gimme some incentive
For to eat my dinner

Roll me a fatty
Make my conversation chatty
I’ll look into my wardrobe
Find an outfit that is natty

Herb or pot or chronic
Call my girlfriend maryjane
Satchmo called it muggles
The result is just the same

You can go riding to bone city
With the plant they call greengold
Wrap me a blunt with lots of weed
Make sure it’s properly rolled

Twist me a spleefer
Got a jones for some reefer
A joystick from the ganja bush
Will fly you to the ether

Marijuana marijuana
Marijuana cigarette
Marijuana marijuana
Don’t you wanna? You bet . . .

- David Lawton


I’ve got nothing but respect for the ladies;
I know most guys tend to act like dicks;
I think of myself as a feminist,
But how did I end up your bitch?

I work to give my girl her orgasm;
My aim in life – to be the scratch for your itch;
Now I know that I am a sensitive guy,
But how’d I ever end up your bitch?

Take it take it take it
Calm my panic
Get some plates
Know the answer
Turn that noise down
Think of dusting
Be more awake

I wanted to show you I was in
For the long haul;
That’s the reason I was willing
To get hitched;
I knew that you were a bitch,
But I figured you were my bitch,
So how the fuck did I end up your bitch?!

- David Lawton

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