i want love so great it makes Nicholas Sparks cream in his pants

love poems by Calvero
Publication Date: April 2015
Trade Paper; 232 pages; 5-1/4″ x 8″
ISBN 978-1-938753-13-8

From the Back Cover

Turn your passions
into walls
and live inside them
until they grow old
and collapse
and crush
you.

It’s
the only way
to live

and it’s
the only way
to die.

Selections from i want love so great it makes Nicholas Sparks cream in his pants

your vagina is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

your vagina is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

We had just gotten
outta the shower
and as you reached up
and grabbed your towel
from off the door
I stole a quick peek
at your vagina
and as I looked at
your vagina
I went,
Awwwwwww …
inside my head
because at that very moment
I realized your vagina
was the cutest thing
I had ever seen.

It was glistening
and wet
and wonderful
and had a little bit
of pube stubble
too
and I thought to myself,
“Little Bit
of Pube Stubble”
would be an awesome name
for a band,

and then I thought to myself,
Holy shit …
Her vagina
is seriously cuter
than a kitten,

and that really surprised me
because I don’t think
anything
is cuter than kittens.

But your vagina
was

and I wanted to pet it
and dangle yarn in front of it
and nuzzle it with my nose
to try and make it
purr
because it was that
cute.

I could’ve stared at it
forever,
your cute
vagina.

It was glistening
and wet
and wonderful
and it was so cute
that it would’ve made
a smiling baby
look like a dirty asshole
if held up next to it
and it was so cute
that I wanted to take
a picture of it
and carry the picture around
in my wallet
and then show the picture off
to everyone and be like,
“Would you look at that?
I mean
how friggin’ cute
is that, huh?
Come on.
Am I right
or am I
right?”

I don’t think
my penis
is very cute.

Or even
handsome
for that matter.

Actually
I kinda think
my penis
is rather fugly.

Actually
I think my penis
kinda looks like
Walter Matthau.

And not even
young, The Odd Couple
Walter Matthau.
More like
horribly-aged, Grumpy Old Men
Walter Matthau.

I’m surprised
your cute vagina
ever lets my ugly,
Walter Matthau penis
inside of her
but for some reason
it does.

It pulls away the velvet rope
and lets my ugly,
Walter Matthau penis
inside
and then my ugly,
Walter Matthau penis
sprouts hands
and gropes around
and feels the
overwhelming love
you have for me
living inside you
until he can’t
take it anymore
and just explodes
because it feels
so good.

Your vagina
is the cutest thing
I’ve ever seen
because it’s the face
of our love.

Maybe that’s why
it always looks like
your vagina
is smiling
at me—because it’s the face
of everything warm
and wonderful
and brilliant
we’ve created
together
so far.

A face
no one will ever see
except for me.

Mine.

My face.

Mine …

I don’t smile
much
but whenever I look at
your vagina
I do.

I mean,
shit …

I’d have to be
some kinda
monster
not to.

If you’ve ever
wondered,

“Gee,
why does he always
look so sad
whenever I put pants
on?”

well now
you know,

don’t you?

i want love so great it makes Nicholas Sparks cream in his pants

i want love so great it makes Nicholas Sparks cream in his pants

I’m handsome.

I know so
because my mom
tells me so.

My mom says
I’m the most handsome guy
she knows.

She tells me constantly
and as nice and flattering
as it all is
I’ve gotta say
it’s never really
been enough.

The love of friends
and family
is like having Cap’n Crunch
every night for dinner.

Sure it’s good
and it’s filling
if you have a lot of it

and it will keep you
alive
and stuff

but it will leave you
wanting pizza
or steak
or tacos.

It will leave you
wanting more.

It will leave you
wanting better
and you know there’s better
out there
because you’ve
tasted it,

because you’ve
tasted
the pizza-steak-tacos.

I want love so great
it makes Nicholas Sparks
cream
in his pants.

I wanna fuck the woman
of my dreams
on top of the Eiffel Tower
as the sun sets
and I don’t mean
the top platform
either.

Ohhhhhh no …

I mean the needle-like thing
that diddles the sky’s
asshole.

I’m not sure
of the mechanics
of that
or how it would all work
exactly
but I’m pretty sure
the only thing better
than coming on the face
of the woman of my dreams
is coming off the needle
of the Eiffel Tower
during sunset
and onto some poor bastard’s
head down below.

Haha,
that’d be awesome.

That would be
really, really awesome
and I’m not going to settle
for anything less than that either
because settlers
are pussies.

And to clarify
by “settlers”
I don’t mean people
who migrated to America
and colonized it
because they were
as tough
as balls.

I just mean people
who settle
and live their lives
without fire
because fireless people
are sloppy, wet,
dripping pussies
and the last thing
I’d ever wanna be
is a sloppy, wet,
dripping pussy.

When I do fuck
the woman of my dreams
on the needle of
the Eiffel Tower
during sunset
and then come off the top
onto some poor bastard’s
head
down below
I hope that poor bastard
is a settler.

Then after all that
I’ll probably go home
with the love of my life
and we’ll just nap with our cats

because as awesome
as that all sounds

it sure as fuck sounds
pretty exhausting
too

but I guess exhausted
is good.

Exhausted means
you’re trying.

Exhausted
is a symptom
of fire.

you’re a stranger and my mom said to never talk to strangers

you’re a stranger and my mom said to never talk to strangers

Are your tattoos
scratch ’n sniff?

Just kidding.

I know
they’re not.

I was just looking
for an excuse
to touch you.

I was just looking
for an excuse
to sniff you.

I wanna touch you
and sniff you
because I dream about you
a lot.

I don’t even know you
or anything
but sometimes I dream about
holding your vagina open
and sticking my entire head
inside of it
and then standing up
and wearing you on my head
like you’re a mask.

This way
your entire body
would become a face
and the world would look
at your whole body
as a face
and they’d take in
and admire
every beautiful inch
of you
instead of just your eyes
and lips
and nose
and ears
and hair
like they normally
would.

Sometimes
I dream about
being tiny
and skiing down
the pale, white powder
of your breasts
but purposefully falling down
and wiping out
over and over again
just so I can smash myself
face first
into your warm,
bosomy flesh
and feel it full force
against my face
because that’s the way
your breasts deserve
to be felt.

Sometimes
I dream about
making you
cry
and then saying
sorry
and then making
perfectly timed fart noises
that make you
laugh
because I have a hunch
the most beautiful
that you specifically
could ever be seen
is when you smile
and laugh
with tears in your eyes
right after
you’ve been crying.

I don’t even know you
but I want to.

I want you
and I want you
just as you are
right now.

I don’t wanna
fix you.

I just wanna snap
those little devil horns
off your head
and eat them
’cause they probably
taste just like
Peanut M&Ms
and then
after I’ve snapped
them off you
I’ll softly put my hand
on your cheek
and say,
“See?
Still pretty.
Still so, so, so
pretty.”

Yeah …
I don’t wanna
fix you.

Me eating
your devil horns
is not fixing you.

It’s just showing you
that you’re still beautiful
even though you’ve been
butchered more than
the rest of us
have.

I wanna show you
you’re still beautiful
because I know you hate yourself
as much as I hate myself
and I hate myself
a whole fuckin’ lot …

I don’t expect
perfection
and I don’t want
perfection.

I want a beautiful,
fucked-up mess
I can’t control,

that will make me feel
more than I’ve ever felt
good
and bad.

I want whatever
the world
hasn’t pilfered
away from you.

I want whatever
you have left.

If you give me
whatever you have left
I’ll build a really cool
box fort
around it
and I’ll arm us
with Nerf guns
(because real guns
scare me)
and I’ll help protect
our box fort
alongside you
and that’s all I can do
really.

I don’t even know you
but I think I could
love you
and your tattoos
and all of your
pale imperfections
too.

I’m pathetic.

I don’t even
know you …

You’re a stranger
and my mom said
to never talk
to strangers.

The heart
drives the brain
mad
and then suddenly
you find yourself
more alone
than you’ve ever been
and you feel left out
and you can’t
stop thinking,

The whole world
sucks
and everyone
can just go and eat
a bag of dicks.

I feel
too much,
too strongly
to ever
make it past
30.

 

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