when you’re blink-eyed and bobbing.

I’ll take back our ugly sober words

and mix them up with grenadine.

Café Depot always scares me

since you chucked your chai at me

when I said that you look better

after you’ve had two or three.

That’s why I get a rain check

when you say “Let’s get coffee!”

Hit me on my pager when the brew shakes get you major.

Call me when you’re drunk.

Call me when you’re lazy-eyed and smiling,

when you’re double-dosed and dopey.

I’ll fill the empties in your eyes

and drain them out again.

Last time we kicked it straight-edged,

you straight-up kicked my ass.

I said for all the gin in Georgia

that I wouldn’t take you back

cuz you’re punchy as a party

and my jaw is made of glass.

I’ll set my status to “away” when you’re hung-over the next day.

Call me when you’re drunk.

Call me when you’re plastered wall to wall,

swerving nicely northly in your pinkish Eighty-Eight.

I’ll yank you off your wagon

like a pervert in the park.

You won’t give up our good times

because some judge threatened strike three.

Once you’ve downed your whiskey-sodas

and some double G&T’s,

then you’ll be blitzed and awful

friendly to half-pint little me.

Write to me the day you drop out of AA,

Call me when you’re drunk.

–

Chris Masson is Black Heart’s favourite Party Animal. You can read his poem, “Redo the Thing,” in issue 3 or online here.

Honey do that thing,

the pigtails and teddy bear laugh.

There’s beautiful women everywhere I look.

I need to remember why it’s your ass I’m watchin’.

Wanna rewrite your name in the snow.

Wanna redo clumsy first handjobs.

Wanna retatt “luv u” on my ass.

Baby do that thing,

shotgun an O’Keefe and encore to celebrate.

I was tryna remember who the other girl in our threeway was,

n’ shit! it was you.

Wanna get sleepy with the Habs on.

Wanna get all glassy in a bar fight for ya.

Wanna get another chance to getcha off.

Titsy do that thing,

the porn film prom dress smile.

I got balls blue as razzberries, as Smurfette

overdosed in a December alley.

Wanna unhate your dirty hair.

Wanna uncall you a rotten crackslit.

Wanna unfuck the Pizza Hut girl.

Honey do that thing –

sing that song – you know – the one?

Whatever it was, I forget.

Just redo it, n’ I’ll remember.

Editor’s note: We’re not entirely sure what this is supposed to mean, but this is what Chris Masson sent us as his bio.

oh my GAWD! brian and justin were totaly stoned at the dance nicky!
don’t you know what stoned eyes looks like? yer a L0sER!
jk jk lol!
omg! the new yearbook is going to be sooooooooooo nice
trust me the covers are so awesome and shiny
oh my gawd you have to see the picture of josie armor in it! she looks like a fat shit!
its true she blew her own cousin you know
i didnt believe it either but Rachel told me that josie told her she did
right before she broke her collar bone at laura travis’s birthday party
i know! fucking tire swings! wtf!
dare me to put “incest” into her cousin’s blurb?????
i totaly fucknig will!
should it be in activities or favourite pastimes?
claim to fame!!!