By Mason Johnson
I think we can all agree, there’s nothing wrong with stalking your kids on facebook. That’s what parents do. They stalk. How else are you supposed to protect your brood?
My question: how bad is it to stalk your kids’ friends? Please let me know, thanks.
That was a joke, guys. I don’t actually stalk kids on facebook. Mostly I stalk ex-girlfriends and people who submit poems to this, which I think is perfectly acceptable.
Below are my three favorite poems from this week along with a few runner-ups. I’ve included comments below each poem. They are italicized. Everything looks prettier italicized. Shall we?
Let There Be Poems
The War on Warmth by Madison Moon
Cops: Woman Choked Man For Taking Covers In Bed
The drinks let me feel everything.
Sinking into the crevices of my bed.
So much warmth right now.
My body feels warm inside and out.
I feel every fiber of my covers softly touching me.
I love this.
I am passionate about this comfort.
Nobody can take this away from me.
If someone tried to take my passion.
I’d probably choke them out.
A+ — You sound like you spent a lot of time in the womb, Madison. That’s cool.
Every day is the same day.
Like a Craig David music video, it always plays the same.
She wakes up, pulls back the covers.
She opens the curtains, has a wee.
She munches breakfast with some orange juice;
She gets ready for market.
Groceries galore, her feet are sore.
She rushes up the stair searching for more;
Glasses on, her eyes a’squint
Eager to see what the interwebs has in store
Oh what’s this
Drinks and b—–s and references
to marijuana and homoerotic experimentation
And that sounds a wee bit racist
A bit offensive perhaps
But they’re all such nice boys
Such darling young men
Boys will be boys
And that CV looks mighty important
And it’s only offensive if you don’t know them
And exactly how darling they are
She picks up the phone and gives him a call
But he’s not home
Twenty-five years and a waistline gone
And here she is, all alone
She has a shower and dreams of years past
Hitchhiking and strangers
Trysts with strangers and
Oh! what fun they had
How alive she felt!
She’s laughing now;
Her animus perky, her breasts not so much.
She dries off and takes a seat
Oh what’s this, clickity clickity click.
A+ — Never should have given grandma that 1998 AOL install CD.
Parents against Privacy by Beach Sloth
Study: Parents ‘Facebook Stalking’ Their Kids
It is not stalking
If you check your children’s’ Facebook profile
It is called parenting
That’s what being on Facebook is all about
Commenting on your children’s status updates
That’s called ‘checking in’
Since they don’t return calls anymore
Since they don’t reply to emails
Since they hide in plain sight on the internet
Find your children on Facebook
Add them as a friend
You raised them
You might as well be friends
A+ — I refuse to add my mom and dad to facebook. This might make me a bad son, but I don’t care. The day they “poke” me will be the day I die.
While the above poems were amazing, these poems were simply good, hence the fact that they’re down here as runner-ups. Life is brutal in the “Runners Uppers” section. But still, we shouldn’t discriminate against them, guys.
Poem by Young Chakotay Butler
Cops: Woman Choked Man For Taking Covers In Bed
My wife choked me because I stole the covers in bed
It felt like being in an off-brand greeting card from 20 years ago
I’m going to Target to buy some roses and a huge blanket
Lord knows that I still love that woman
B- — I love Target. They sell magic cards, cat food and frozen pizza — the three things I buy most.
the coolest mom by mark thomas stevenson
Upstate N.Y. Mom Accused Of Hiring Strippers For Son’s 16th Birthday
some moms bag
ham sandwich, shy
apples, a power bar
and four dollars for years
without a sour sigh–
some moms unmake
every table, rewhite the
cloth, liberate every
soggy smelling room
of soggy smelly socks
and soiled y-fronts
and never ask of you a thing–
Davey’s, she bought him
a ’96 Alexis, electric
blue, for his birthday,
last month. nice,
never give them-
to the worst parts
of you even though they
know, though they may
but the coolest mom, this mom
filled our bowling alley
with a discoball twirl of
lights, the smell of cocoa oil
and glitter, and the
trill and yell
of Motley Crüe (“Girls,
Girls, Girls”, obvious)—the
bowlers all paused, their
mouths slack-jawed, and
mine too—my friends in
their minds made me
truly their king,
as Tatiana braced
my jeans and gave
my skull the
with her thighs. I felt
from all sides.
A- — Is it possible for my mother to be all of these moms?
Variations on a theme by Cassandra Gillig
Rapper 2 Chainz Arrested In Md.; Picture With Cops Causes Controversy
C+++ — I think you forgot some.
THAT’S IT. That’s all. No more poems. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here, cause my parents will be home soon and they get awfully touchy-feely after they’ve been away awhile and you don’t want to be here for that, seriously, nothing is more awkward than my dad’s arm around your shoulder.
Also! Submit more! Everyone. To find out how, click here. Seriously, I can’t keep doing this if people aren’t submitting poems. Remember, no poem is too stupid. In fact, stupid is preferred.