Collecting Verbal Hoodies

hi my name is kao, this is now a poetry log | subs welcome

[wizardrights]

power move: make a d&d character with the same name as your dm

[xxxdragonfucker69xxx]

#but with ‘cool’ in front of it

[modmad]

not quite as much of a powermove as this but I did in fact play a DnD game with two geniuses (Todd and Lucy) who called their characters after each other, and let me tell you the DM did in fact lay face down on the table after the 300th instance of confusions over who was being spoken to/referred to and so in an act of mercy the character names were changed to “Lucy the Agoniser” and “the Mighty Todd” which frankly was a wonderful move until they started to refer to themselves as that in real life too and the cycle repeated itself

[sailforvalinor]

“MY OWN BROTHER MIGHT BECOME A CRIME SCENE” I’M SCREAMING

[down-the-drain-freeverse]

my plate is full of half-cooked chicken egg rolls, gently freezerburned, and there is no one else at the table, nothing else on my calendar for the day. just raw burnt pastry shredded by a distributer and rolled on a line to be eaten bite by bite like loneliness.

[down-the-drain-freeverse]

there was a space where all of my hair descended, it felt, out of my scalp and onto the carpet, my shoulders, the pillows, your fat fingers, a relentless shower made worse when I washed it thousands of loose strands three point five months afterbirth, after he and I were born (mother and son) and his hair grew in as mine vanished thinner and thinner I always thought I would be unbothered by hair loss until it happened and I realized I didn't know when the fallout would stop or when curls would sprout amongst the limp locks I had left and eventually poke out in wild swirls all over my head like vines

[down-the-drain-freeverse]

making pumpkin biscotti and pumpkin butterscotch instant pudding today and oh yum :)

[down-the-drain-freeverse]

there was a space where all of my hair descended, it felt, out of my scalp and onto the carpet, my shoulders, the pillows, your fat fingers, a relentless shower made worse when I washed it thousands of loose strands three point five months afterbirth, after he and I were born (mother and son) and his hair grew in as mine vanished thinner and thinner I always thought I would be unbothered by hair loss until it happened and I realized I didn't know when the fallout would stop or when curls would sprout amongst the limp locks I had left and eventually poke out in wild swirls all over my head like vines

[down-the-drain-freeverse]

to finlandia

green and burnt umbre sways

before night takes hold

[down-the-drain-freeverse]

one singular truffle

maybe the ending was chosen, maybe it was a slow decline of language and growth and death.

I always had to account, had always done something wrong. you always held me to account.

at fault. at fault.

but any confrontation I brought was disaster, hell upon you, a personal attack made of chainsaws and tremors in my fingers. maybe because you held on to me so tightly, so possessively, you couldn't let me go even long enough to breathe (or live or cry or walk or be mortal). you wanted me to belong to you. maybe, the ending started with your words, "one singular truffle," after you asked four thousand times for one, and I made twelve for my family for Christmas with hard work, and hours over the stove. I brought one for you. one was not enough, was not what you wanted. -- or maybe the moment of mortality was when you told me that receiving your wrath was an act of trust, confidence in my faithfulness. and yet, I could never do what you wanted, even when I did what you asked. the request was too laborious, too diminishing of you. at fault. at fault. you couldn't stop saying it: "one singular truffle." and the words never left my mind, even when I make coffee on Tuesday nights.