- nockturne
- Aug 5, 2008
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Soiled Meat
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All good efforts, but nothing will ever top this:
resting bort face posted:
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a neckbeard engorged with cheap gorditas;
Let us go, into certain half-deserted threads,
The caffeine-strung dread
Of restless nights in gimmick posters’ jokes
And hippie/neocon headbutting over Newsmax links:
Threads that follow like a tedious argument
About gun control and governments
To lead you to commit some fakeposting …
Oh, do not ask, “Who gives a poo poo?”
Let us go and make our visit.
In BYOB the goonettes come and go
Talking of their cooters and Halo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drainz,
can haz the soot that falls from chimneys on itz back,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October lol,
Curled once about the house, and haz a nap rofl.
And indeed there will be time
For the Photoshops that prompt us all to laugh,
or snarl, or scoff, or forward them to friends;
There will be time, there will be time
To ‘shop a shark with the head of a giraffe;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time to post about it on the forums:
the E/N threads which we all love to hate;
Time for you to spam emotes,
And time yet for a hundred quote not edits,
And for a hundred edits and quotes and edits,
Before the making of a bacon boat.
In BYOB the goonettes come and go
Talking of their titties and Halo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Will I get 5s?” and, “Will I get 5s?”
Time to turn back and delete the jive,
from Fark, from 4chan, from kotaku contrived—
(They will say: “mods please gas and ban!”)
My beefy-T, my chest hair rising thicky to my chins,
My neckbeard rich and modest, but asserted by a Sailor Moon pin—
(They will say: “lol animu fatty aspie FTW!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the multiverse?
In a minute there is time
For quotes and edits which an admin will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with Jap cartoons;
I know the voices dubbed with a dying fall
Beneath the J-pop from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that would not fit inside a human head,
And when I receive my anime pillow girl,
When I pin it underneath my flab, and thrust, and bawl,
Then how should I begin
To ask a human woman if she’d like to watch my animes?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms penned and inked with glorious Nippon care
(But in the screen’s light, endowed with brilliant blue hair!)
It is Pocky from the store
That makes me such a bore?
Arms that don’t jiggle when they move, no, not at all.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have lurked for years in many threads
And know the heart-felt honesty and bitter sarcasm
Of lonely men in boxer shorts, running Windows?…
I should have been a large-breasted woman-tiger
With a twenty-inch penis tentacle inside her.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Soothed by medication,
Asleep … tired … after masturbation,
Stretched on the floor, here beside the TV.
Should I, after Mountain Dews and snacks,
Have the strength to do some jumping jacks?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and gorged,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly greasy) sawed off upon a bus,
I am no Goku—and here’s no great fuss;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the snack stand sold out of Snickers,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the Dews, the Red Bulls, the Pepsis,
Among discussions of Final Fantasy
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the carrot with a smile,
To have squeezed myself in jeans too small
To sweat and toil and drop the pounds,
To say: “I am Naruto, with awesome hair,
Come back to ask you out, I shall ask you out”—
If one, startled right out of her chair,
Should say: “Why can’t we just be friends?
It’s best, it is. Just friends.”
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the Heroes and Teen Titans and the Wiki edits,
After the mangas, after the green teas, after the neko-cats meowing through the door—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if the fog of my ‘Sperger’s lifted:
Would it have been worth while
If one, grimaced at my face or startled from a chair,
And calling the police, should say:
“Why can’t we just be friends?,
It’s best, it is. Just friends.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Zuko, nor was meant to be;
Am the whipping boy, one that will do
To relieve the tension, rip a fart or two,
regale my friends about Evangelion,
let them laugh behind my back, shoulder the abuse,
Honorable, wise, and never one to whine;
admiring of samurai, but a bit obese;
At times, indeed, almost elephantine—
Almost, at times, a Beast.
I grow old … I grow old …
I shall gorge myself on bacon-wrapped sausage rolls.
Shall I wash my hair today? Do I dare to eat a salad?
I shall wear my dirty sweatpants, and call this basement “palace.”
I have heard the Sailors singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them flying into battle in their suits
With hair the colors of the rainbow, and even black,
While I reach and pop the pimples on my back.
We have lingered in the afterhours of GBS
By false hyperlinks tricked with swap.avi red and brown
Till another Rickroll pwns us, and we frown.
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May 2, 2016 16:13
