fanniesson -

fanniesson - Poems

The new pups pee all over the house.
I would've bet anything, by now they'd be sold,
and I'd be well on my way to stage two
of this venture.

They never kissed
my sister brother or me,
nor did I ever see them
kiss one another.

I am what I am.
Not the best, and certainly
not the worse.
Stuck in the middle, or hiding there,

Now as bald as God could make you,
for no other reason than
the genetics of male pattern baldness
I remember with fondness,

I went back;
to her Chinese takeout,
Domino's Pizza suppers.

I am my father hairy ears and all,
listening to music heard only on
one radio station, rarely seen
out of blue work clothes,

Never went the extra mile
for that pat on the back,
better grade in school,
something extra in my paycheck.

Let me pat myself on the back
before it's too late,
for doing a good job.

I cry over everything now
at a drop of a hat;
other's misfortunes,
movie endings, breast cancer,

She was meant to live alone
not have a husband and three kids.

She was meant to get out of bed

Nature doesn't give a damn,
she will sign off on a mom dog
ripping open her puppy's belly
sucked up its insides like it was chili topping


It''ll all be over as fast as it started
in one big bang,
man-made or natural
does it really matter?

In my mind's eye, I'm seeing it as being
‘hectic to say the least, so.
With any luck I should be able to slide through
in all that chaos going on.

And when you get right down to it.
Aren't we all the same?
Do we not all feel pain love hate

Crossed my kitchen wall as brazen as if
I wasn't there.
Me with ten thousand of their murders
under my belt.

She is willing to stand outside
on an open front porch
or in the backyard anytime
day or night,

Once I was waiting for Jesus
along with the others, talked that.
‘He's gonna save you trash'
that nobody really wants to hear.

He'd be on that corner, rain or shine,
a sure bet if ever there was one,
I didn't have to think about it twice.

The old lady once flushed
a twenty-five dollar
bag of smack
on me.

He died, so she died,
though he's in the ground.
If he had it his way.
He'd reverse it around.

fanniesson - Biography

a thank you to those that read my poems

Michael (Fanniesson)

The Best Poem Of fanniesson -

A Father's Day Poem

The new pups pee all over the house.
I would've bet anything, by now they'd be sold,
and I'd be well on my way to stage two
of this venture.
Using cash from the sales of them to acquiring
at least two more full-grown females,
and having my champion male knock them up,
tripling my investment easily
within a few months, and.

The wife laughs, as she hands me a spray can of
deodorizer disinfectant, and a roll of paper towels,
and wonders out loud, if I remember?

The kiddie ride attached on top a fifty-three Chevy truck
I bought?
My first get rich quick scheme and that gangster's kid
on Bath Avenue that got hurt on it, and the insurance
I should've had but didn't to cover such accidents
and how my old man,

‘now this is what makes this a Father's Day poem'.

Had to call in all types of favors he had earned over
his lifetime from the pigeon racing club he was a member of
so that I didn't get that visit in the middle of the night
from two guys with baseball bats.

God bless you pops.
You were always there for me. 'One in a million'.
Maybe I should've when with pigeons.

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