Hypotenuse Marsupial Love Poem Sigh Through Gritted Teeth Intimations
you fucking differentiated sort of
yellow cheese, on the interior sort of
yellow fake container gets
a rise as for
cusp of all pertinent
messy brown finagling
your tickets I use
a whippet in your penultimate
tintabular tectonic
focus my hatred your way
here blending aphoristic total device
corruption
I want to fuck you
be a sleeve in the kind of city
where marsupials are common law
yelling magnanimous bleeding
fixy timey
spilling fun asphalt perspiring
inventing hip hop in the park to the
fucking you, yellow touching angry
hypotenuse mangling gentle
sleeves matriculating all the love
out toward bankable
cretin fantasia
in your city in long sighs
building fucking management
in a city of long sliced
time
being a huge
slice of gluttonous
here you are then no more than here
yellow cheese blending totality in with
tools we give the whiff to
wheel around carts regretting
the perverted of next
the slip around fits too tight
mangles jewelry tightly
fucked managing
our carts full of good love mayonnaise
a space time fatty
fitting in the picture
of the GOP sloppy stick race
sliding the cheese under it’s thingy
writing music all you fucking singular
sliding the cheese under it’s thingy
stupid sliding rickety top hat
kiddie pools ricocheting cheap
stupid wonder
the childlike presidential candidate
who brings the childlike wonder
of the milk on the table
the special cheezy fucked avarice
the sends war to a booby
on the sea or beside the sea
on the sea or beside the sea settling
capital sediment I know you
I make no sense in my special jumpsuit
for where I feel guilt to how you make
no war feel more good than before
than if the horizon is filled with cheese
than we are smiling
then we are causing an intervention
than we are peaceful and no good
we are all a waste than a truck
in the alley moves your stuff around
brilliantly
than a smiling boy you
piece of shit
no we blend in with pixels
and pouches storing the content
in forgiveness our internet is pure
forgiveness thinking through it’s muscle
of angry joy I release a gas
that is my most joyful expression through a tube
thus not gas much
gas much a fertile still music
more creating war baby
miles of war babies and porn
picked up in the steady
rock a beat the blended
missile is the beat to the miles
of war repetition
I enter the suit
a marsupial
putting my nosehole against the cock of war
pining my nosehole for a single opening
bumpy singular war mission
we got a guy to go over
there and kill him
our team is now winning
pull ourselves up buy the perplexed
nerves of ourselves
feeding war it’s nice giblets
reasoned raillery
really railing the one who answers
the ad on the bus
a war surrounding a van that is
a marsupial of porn and more
than that a marsupial
of a presence
that is really a ghost
I enter the suit a second time
feeling poorly
used as massive starting wars
get more used
much like used boys
in vans circling the sun
making pulled livers in the sun
gleam like polar bears missing their parents
no more polar bears missing their parents
are starting wars than before
but we are massive before them
starting wars and making mind like
mind is made in broad daylight
before you manage not to look
and before it clicks with you
before you manage not to click on it
cheating busfulls of young war porn
coming back to a staggering bill
on a busty plain twice since conquered
you fucking tinsel that rubs
sidewise slippery fans bleed
through gates in the hood in the shape
of the words their influence sharply
marsupial than perch
a sight through surveil a rubber boney
mantra might have a certain
beep
following your
cornhole fucking bleeding vertigo
climbing unpleasantly in a made room
you give to your nightmare
tizzy told paper pending on doctored
papers slipping through gates of bleeding fanbased
initiative fucking robbery
lack of tickle formula
slide lanky bass
through your neighborhood war poop
hits in the 90s
become little hits now
our marsupial boxes
beeping them forth in an angry
dance no fucking flames
I going into a pearl that holds
several customers that blow your mind
with their discerning taste
customers who are building veracity
through long tubes making pimples elected
shoots popping through mind’s manic
marsupialness
certain cretin
rhymes with a skin tag
certain avuncular
men lacking completely in sensitivity
are lacking a hose
that makes them feel better
now I’m really writing about a certain cretin
and in so doing
make up magical fun
extending the line born cretins finding war
but none of us want this war
smelling our bar tab
clubs closing on account of the war
and the cretins who start the war
the cretins are like certain
glazed impulse
chattering I fixate on the manic
poetic chattering eating it’s
poetic chattering
down to a nub of
literate cretins
striding my door down
coming through spells of reversed
sympathy chattering dead cretins
cretins no more than
than arms blown cretinward
through ripe cretin eyeballs
chattering textual cretin condolence
signing cretin bills
10 Questions with Mike Hauser
1. What is the meaning of this?
To be perturbed and busy.
2. Who do you think you are?
I’m pretty sure that what I am is kind of like the things I’ve heard about but privileged through subjectivity.
3. On whose authority?
The owner. The person with keys. Who wears shades and owns shade.
4. What were you thinking?
I’d like hummus.
5. Where would you get an idea like that?
Culture is the short answer.
6. Why on earth?
It’s where carrots grow.
7. Since when?
Like whenever.
8. You and whose army?
No one’s.
9. Did it ever occur to you?
It repeats in my sleep.
10. How do you sleep at night?
Arms crossed over my chest.
Mike Hauser lives in Milwaukee and writes, eats things, needs a cat (because they are low-maintenance), rides the bus. He has occasionally organized poetry readings and plans take up doing so again sometime in the future. His work has appeared recently in Cannot Exist, Bright Pink Mospquito, and in the e-chap called Samples published as part of THE EQUALIZER.
MIKE HAUSER
Hypotenuse Marsupial Love Poem Sigh Through Gritted Teeth Intimations
you fucking differentiated sort of
yellow cheese, on the interior sort of
yellow fake container gets
a rise as for
cusp of all pertinent
messy brown finagling
your tickets I use
a whippet in your penultimate
tintabular tectonic
focus my hatred your way
here blending aphoristic total device
corruption
I want to fuck you
be a sleeve in the kind of city
where marsupials are common law
yelling magnanimous bleeding
fixy timey
spilling fun asphalt perspiring
inventing hip hop in the park to the
fucking you, yellow touching angry
hypotenuse mangling gentle
sleeves matriculating all the love
out toward bankable
cretin fantasia
in your city in long sighs
building fucking management
in a city of long sliced
time
being a huge
slice of gluttonous
here you are then no more than here
yellow cheese blending totality in with
tools we give the whiff to
wheel around carts regretting
the perverted of next
the slip around fits too tight
mangles jewelry tightly
fucked managing
our carts full of good love mayonnaise
a space time fatty
fitting in the picture
of the GOP sloppy stick race
sliding the cheese under it’s thingy
writing music all you fucking singular
sliding the cheese under it’s thingy
stupid sliding rickety top hat
kiddie pools ricocheting cheap
stupid wonder
the childlike presidential candidate
who brings the childlike wonder
of the milk on the table
the special cheezy fucked avarice
the sends war to a booby
on the sea or beside the sea
on the sea or beside the sea settling
capital sediment I know you
I make no sense in my special jumpsuit
for where I feel guilt to how you make
no war feel more good than before
than if the horizon is filled with cheese
than we are smiling
then we are causing an intervention
than we are peaceful and no good
we are all a waste than a truck
in the alley moves your stuff around
brilliantly
than a smiling boy you
piece of shit
no we blend in with pixels
and pouches storing the content
in forgiveness our internet is pure
forgiveness thinking through it’s muscle
of angry joy I release a gas
that is my most joyful expression through a tube
thus not gas much
gas much a fertile still music
more creating war baby
miles of war babies and porn
picked up in the steady
rock a beat the blended
missile is the beat to the miles
of war repetition
I enter the suit
a marsupial
putting my nosehole against the cock of war
pining my nosehole for a single opening
bumpy singular war mission
we got a guy to go over
there and kill him
our team is now winning
pull ourselves up buy the perplexed
nerves of ourselves
feeding war it’s nice giblets
reasoned raillery
really railing the one who answers
the ad on the bus
a war surrounding a van that is
a marsupial of porn and more
than that a marsupial
of a presence
that is really a ghost
I enter the suit a second time
feeling poorly
used as massive starting wars
get more used
much like used boys
in vans circling the sun
making pulled livers in the sun
gleam like polar bears missing their parents
no more polar bears missing their parents
are starting wars than before
but we are massive before them
starting wars and making mind like
mind is made in broad daylight
before you manage not to look
and before it clicks with you
before you manage not to click on it
cheating busfulls of young war porn
coming back to a staggering bill
on a busty plain twice since conquered
you fucking tinsel that rubs
sidewise slippery fans bleed
through gates in the hood in the shape
of the words their influence sharply
marsupial than perch
a sight through surveil a rubber boney
mantra might have a certain
beep
following your
cornhole fucking bleeding vertigo
climbing unpleasantly in a made room
you give to your nightmare
tizzy told paper pending on doctored
papers slipping through gates of bleeding fanbased
initiative fucking robbery
lack of tickle formula
slide lanky bass
through your neighborhood war poop
hits in the 90s
become little hits now
our marsupial boxes
beeping them forth in an angry
dance no fucking flames
I going into a pearl that holds
several customers that blow your mind
with their discerning taste
customers who are building veracity
through long tubes making pimples elected
shoots popping through mind’s manic
marsupialness
certain cretin
rhymes with a skin tag
certain avuncular
men lacking completely in sensitivity
are lacking a hose
that makes them feel better
now I’m really writing about a certain cretin
and in so doing
make up magical fun
extending the line born cretins finding war
but none of us want this war
smelling our bar tab
clubs closing on account of the war
and the cretins who start the war
the cretins are like certain
glazed impulse
chattering I fixate on the manic
poetic chattering eating it’s
poetic chattering
down to a nub of
literate cretins
striding my door down
coming through spells of reversed
sympathy chattering dead cretins
cretins no more than
than arms blown cretinward
through ripe cretin eyeballs
chattering textual cretin condolence
signing cretin bills
10 Questions with Mike Hauser
1. What is the meaning of this?
To be perturbed and busy.
2. Who do you think you are?
I’m pretty sure that what I am is kind of like the things I’ve heard about but privileged through subjectivity.
3. On whose authority?
The owner. The person with keys. Who wears shades and owns shade.
4. What were you thinking?
I’d like hummus.
5. Where would you get an idea like that?
Culture is the short answer.
6. Why on earth?
It’s where carrots grow.
7. Since when?
Like whenever.
8. You and whose army?
No one’s.
9. Did it ever occur to you?
It repeats in my sleep.
10. How do you sleep at night?
Arms crossed over my chest.
Mike Hauser lives in Milwaukee and writes, eats things, needs a cat (because they are low-maintenance), rides the bus. He has occasionally organized poetry readings and plans take up doing so again sometime in the future. His work has appeared recently in Cannot Exist, Bright Pink Mospquito, and in the e-chap called Samples published as part of THE EQUALIZER.