Manny Furious


Ode To Tma Mo'Zany, One Of My Friends On Facebook - Poem by Manny Furious

Many of my peers
Didn't believe
That gods roamed the earth.
But that's only because they never met
Tma Mo'zany.

Tma Mozany was a god in his own mind
But others
Wouldn't believe it. Not because
They couldn't believe in supernatural
Beings
But only because they refused to believe
A god
Could be such a dickhead.

Tma would walk around
In a white kimono
And barefoot.
When it was cold
He would
Wear sandals.
"Actually, they're huaraches
Made by the Tarahumara
Native Mexicans"
He would
Correct you.

He used to submit articles to the school
Newspaper
Talking about how he didn't drink
Alcohol and how he suggested to others
That they
Should join him in abstaining as well
Because it was
"detrimental"
To "the aura."

Instead he drank all kinds of wonderfully infused
Green tea
Fresh from
"the orient"
Which sprouted an exotic,
Pink flower
In his mug
When he poured hot water
Over it. He wrote articles about his
Meditation
Practices and how he would have out of
Body
Experiences and how he could
Astral project deep into the cosmos and sometimes
Even to a parallel dimension where insectesoid
Bipeds would welcome him
By having him read
What they called
His "enlightened poetry."

He never cut his hair
And he had these long swirly dusty brown locks
That he never washed with any chemical product
Just "cranberry and, like, noni juice, brah"
He also competed in the hammer throw
Because it provided
"an uninterrupted spiritual channel to my
Scottish anscestors."
Even though he traced most of his ancestors back to
Germany and Austria and Northern Italy.

He railed against modern technology
And how social networking was
"killing the community"
And he made fun of all the
"prissy boys"
Who posed on facebook with their shirts off
Even though Tma himself had a picture of himself
With no shirt
(or kimono)
on
and two of the girls from the track team
on either arm.
These acts were done without
Irony.

Then one day, someone discovered
Hidden above the ceiling in his closet
Five or six VHS
Recordings of him having sex with various
Freshman girls
From each of his 13 years in college.
The camera appeared to be hidden
In a closet or under a box of some kind
And the girls didn't seem to know
They were being filmed.

Six years later he is going to film school
In Los Angeles.
He has short hair and wears sunglasses now.
Still topless. He is still
My friend on facebook.


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Poem Submitted: Monday, July 14, 2014

Poem Edited: Tuesday, July 15, 2014


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