someday i’m going to marry Katy Perry

by Calvero

Publication Date: January 2013
Trade Paper; 204 pages; 5-1/4″ x 8″
ISBN 978-1-938753-04-6

Description

To call someday i’m going to marry Katy Perry unorthodox would be a massive understatement. Off-center, quirky and endearingly puerile, this heteroclite collection of prose is full of twisted metaphors and turned similes, and author Calvero plods indefatigably across the pages as a most unlikely hero.

Calvero is Everyman’s champion. He struggles with Everyman’s problems, he suffers Everyman’s insecurities, he endures Everyman’s heartache. He holds nothing back. No posturing, no pretense, just honest individuality. His absence of guile and complete dismissal of social graces are a welcome deviation from convention.

The author’s playful humor is explicit; the implicit depth will take you by surprise. You come away from his work a little wiser, a little happier, a little more empathetic, but you’re not exactly sure why.

someday i’m going to marry Katy Perry is a wonderfully bizarre glimpse into the remarkably unremarkable. The work is rich, raw and vastly rewarding.

Selections from someday i’m going to marry Katy Perry

goodbye, smiles

goodbye, smiles

She
doesn’t smile at me
anymore
after I kiss her.
She
used to smile at me
all the time
after I kissed her,
a great big grin
from ear to ear,
and I’d think,
Man,
what a great kisser
I am.
I must really be
the best.
But I can’t take all the credit.
Good job, lips.
Good work, tongue.
You guys make a great team!

I loved seeing
her smile at me
after we kissed.
She would smile at me
so big
and so wide
that I thought the corners
of her lips
were going to tear
and rip into her cheeks
and blood was going to spurt out
everywhere
and all over my face.
That would’ve been really gross.
Plus I don’t do well
with blood.
Seeing a lot of it
makes me want to pass out
like I have
the vapors
or something.
So I’m glad I never saw
her smile
tear into her cheeks
like that,
but at the same time
if it ever had happened,
I secretly would’ve been
at least
a little bit happy
knowing that it was
because of me
that she had torn her face
smiling.

But
I don’t have to worry
about that happening
anymore
because she
no longer smiles at me
after I kiss her.
I don’t know why.
I really wonder
what it could be.
I don’t have bad breath.
I don’t eat stinky foods
like onions
or garlic
or Limburger cheese.
I brush my teeth
too.
I also floss.
Well,
not every day.
Occasionally though,
and I chew minty gum
too,
and I shower.
I think I smell good,
so I don’t know what it is.

Maybe I’m just not good
at kissing anymore.
Maybe I’m slipping.
Maybe I just need
to practice
my kissing a little bit.
I could do that.
I could practice
my kissing.
Look …
Mwah!
Mwah!
Mwah!!!

There.
I feel like a better kisser
already.
I hope that’s all it is.

The one before her
stopped smiling
after I kissed her
too
and then she left me
but I guess that’s what happens
sometimes.
Women leave you
and they take away
the kisses,
and the head
and the hand jobs
and the fucking
but what always comes closest
to killing me
is that they take away
the smiles
too.

The smiles
are always
the first to go,
and then, all at once,
they suddenly take away
the smell of their hair,
their laughter,
the after-sex showers,
the kitten noises
they make
as they become sleepy,
the sitcom lullabies,
the sighs of euphoria
they let out
as they lay down in your arms
because you make them
feel safe, and,
in return,
you feel more like
a man
than you ever have
in your entire
life.
They take away
all those things,
all those wonderful things
which returned levity
to your encumbered
being.

Amy,
you have already taken away
the smiles.
When you take away
everything else
please
do it slowly
and steadily.
It may be long
and painful
but this way
it will not
kill me.
You see,
Amy,
I can get kisses
from any girl,
from any person,
even from your roommate’s dog.
He tries to kiss me
all the time.
But what I can’t get
from any of them
is your smile.
So please,
either give it back
or let me go.

I think
that’s right.

I think
that’s only
fair.

someday i'm going to marry Katy Perry

someday i’m going to marry Katy Perry

Someday
I’m going to marry
Katy Perry.

Just wait,
you’ll see.

What’s that you ask?
Isn’t she already married?
Yeah.
So?
She’s married
to that crappy
British comedian,
what’s his name?
Randall?
Huh?
What’s that
you say?
It’s Russell?
Oh.
Well, whatever.
I’m sure
they’ll get divorced.
In fact I know
they will.
I have faith.
I know that probably sounds horrible
and I know my poor Katy
will probably be heartbroken
over it all
when it eventually happens
but I also know
that she and Randall
splitting
is ultimately for the best.
Besides,
I’ll be there for her.
I’ll make her feel better.
I’m not a comedian
per se
but I can make her laugh
too.

I’ll tell her jokes.
I’ll be like,
“Katy,
how do you get a dog
to stop humping your leg?”

“How?”
she’ll ask me.

“Pick him up
and start sucking his dick,”
I’ll reply
with perfect comedic timing.

And then she’ll laugh
and then I’ll laugh
and we’ll laugh together
so hard
that we’ll fall asleep
in each other’s arms.

That will be the beginning
of our courtship
and it wouldn’t take long
after that
for her to see
what a stand-up guy
I am.
I would drive us
to romantic places
with scenic views
in my dented ’96 Geo Prism.
I’d take her out to dinner
whenever I could afford it.
I’d slow dance
with her to Sam Cooke
and Ritchie Valens.
I’d even leave little love notes
around
for her to find
and they’d say adorable shit like,
“I’ll be thinking of you
all day today,”
or
“You farted in your sleep
last night
and I thought it was really cute.
xoxoxo”

In a little over a year
we’d surely be married
and I’d be the happiest man alive
because I’d get to take care of
Katy
for the rest of her life.
I still live with my parents
but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind
Katy moving in with us.
They’re cool like that.
We’d be one, big,
happy family.
Just me,
Katy,
my mom and dad,
my two cats,
and of course her cat,
Kitty Purry.
It’d be great.
Plus,
I don’t want to toot
my own horn
but I’d be the greatest lover
she ever had too.
(Toot,
toot!)
I’d seduce
my beautiful Katy-bear
every night
to make sure
all her deepest
physical desires
were always met …

“Hey baby,”
I’d say to her seductively.
“I know you’re probably
still full
from all that Hamburger Helper
I made us for dinner,
and I know the smell
of fresh cat shit
permeating from the litter box
at the foot of the bed
isn’t ideal,
but maybe you’d like to make some
sweet,
sweet,
love?

Yeah?
You guess so?
Yeah,
there really isn’t anything good
on TV tonight.
Sounds good,
baby.
Let’s get at it.
But we need to try
and fuck quietly.
My parents are asleep
right next door.”

Ya see?
Katy would be happier
than she’d ever been
in her whole life.
She’d totally forget about
what’s his name,
Randall?
Russell you say?
Oh whatever.
And to answer
your question,
no,
I’m not deliberately
forgetting his name
just to belittle him
like he’s not important enough
to remember.
I’m not immature
like that.

Anyway,
Katy would be so happy
living with me
in my parents’ house
and with all our cats
that she’d never want
to leave my side.
Not even
to go out on tour
or to go record
a new hit album.
But don’t worry.
I wouldn’t let that happen.
I’d be really supportive
of her career.
I’d remind her of her gift
and that she needs to share it
with the world
because she and her songs
make so many people
happy.

So ya see?
I’d be a really good
husband,
and Katy and I
would have a great life
together,

and it’d be
beautiful,
and it’d be
wonderful,
and it’d be
scary,

and it’d be
difficult
at times
too
because
true love
comes broken.

It is not something
you fall into
and hold on to
but rather
it is always
continually
being built
from the ground up,
constructed from
the collective rubble
and remains
of two,
separate,
lost souls.

It is hard work,
true love,

a gamble
you don’t
leave to chance,

and as long
as you know this
and grasp this firmly
with all your heart
and with all ten
of your fingers,

and as long
as you are bold enough
and strong enough
and willing enough
to painstakingly
build it
brick by brick,
then you already
have more to offer a woman
than most of the richest men
in the world.

Someday
I’m going to marry
Katy Perry,

and not only that,

I’m going to hold on to her
too.

Just wait
and see,
Randall.
Just wait
and see.

xoxoxoxo

energy drinks and diet sodas

energy drinks and diet sodas

I like energy drinks.
I like diet sodas too.

They both taste good
and therefore I drink both of them
quite frequently,
especially diet soda.

Because I drink so many
energy drinks
and because I drink
so many diet sodas
I have to pee quite a bit
throughout the day.

Pissing so much
throughout the day
might annoy most people
but I really don’t mind it.
I don’t mind it at all
actually.

I like taking pisses,
especially long ones.

Sometimes when I have to pee
I hold it in
for as long as I can.
This way my pisses last longer
coming out.
I like taking long pisses.
They feel extra good
as they spray out of me
and into the toilet.

I spend most of my day
feeling nothing at all,
and when I do finally feel something
it’s usually something
pretty horrible like
sadness,
frustration,
hopelessness,
embarrassment,
aggravation,
anxiety,
shame,
dread.

But the long pisses make me feel good.
They’re an amazing release.
They’re like a longer
but much more mild orgasm.
Plus I don’t have to chase
or beg
or buy some girl dinner
or drinks
to get one.
That and I don’t need to repay the favor
and have my face
stuck between her legs
for forty-five minutes,
tracing designs
all over her crotch
with the tip of my tongue
as she squirms
and writhes
and continually tells me how close she is.
(I’m either really bad at it
or really good at it.
I’m not sure yet
which one
though.)

No,
all I need to do
to feel good
when I don’t have any other reason
to feel good
is drink an energy drink
or a diet soda
and then eventually
I’ll take a piss
and feel good again
inside.

It’s never much
and it never lasts for long
but only when you’re able
to find small amounts
of happiness
loitering in the shadows
and cowering in the darkness
will you ever be able to find it
anywhere else.

That’s why I drink
energy drinks
and diet sodas.

That and they taste
really good
too.

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *