Tuesday, February 28, 2017


(A revised version of one that appeared a few years back. Enjoy!)

she said, with a wink
and a drink in her hand.

I knew Marilyn when

she was still a brunette.

I boinked so many famous men

there's no keeping track.

It wasn't notches on your gun

back then...
nothing like that.

They were all indiscretions.

You either gave in...
 or you didn't.

Some guilt?

But you did it for love.
Every time.

That's the difference 

between then and now.


she said with a start, 
momentarily nodding off--
her gin and tonic slipping
from her fingers
to the floor,
seeping  into the
wine-colored carpet.

It only lasts for as long
as there's a twinkle in his eye...
get that down...
a his...

And she is out

down for the count
and done for the day.

It's a beginning.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017


Would I appear more attractive to you...

If I were bravely shot out of a cannon
and landed in a mangled  heap
just short of the straw pile?

Would I appear more attractive
if  I wore flannel shirts a size too big
(with shoulder pads beneath)
and had a beard
(oop, I have a beard)
and went out each morning
with a big ol' ax
to single-handedly chop down the rain forest?

Or, say, if I held my wine glass
with my pinky extended
and gushed about "finish"
and "bouquet?"

Would I appear more attractive if
I posted pictures of my Corvette
(better get one first)
from every angle with the caption underneath:

Or if I popped over
and fixed your computer with one
perfectly placed karate chop...

Would I appear more attractive
if I were twenty years younger?
A baby spitting up on your new sundress?


If you saw me falling out of bed
( banging my head)
first thing in the morning--
traces of last night's garlic popcorn on my breath, 
chasing you around the room imploring:

Reality raises its ugly head.

Let's all go back to bed. 

Tuesday, February 14, 2017


The pussy is the portal
into another world
(that was Kubrick's observation)
so come with me
my squiggly little brother
the journey is arduous
and fraught with peril
but would you rather languish here
and be just another jerkoff?

On the couch
feet propped up
head tilted back
The Outlaw Bible of Poetry
resting on my lap
Jazz zonked out
beside me
fan whirring away
in the corner
keeping us both "cool"

He likes to rest his head
on my yellow pad
sayin' screw your fleeting ideas
I got some serious sleepin' to do
so I begin jotting these words
on the back of an old envelope
that's the immediacy of poetry
and the sun hasn't even risen

Like the first time I went on Twitter
and it said "What are you doing"
and I thought the only purpose was
to literally say what you were doing
like "making breakfast" or
"farting into the wind"
but that got old fast

It doesn't pay to take things too much to heart
especially on a calender day set aside 
for eating chocolates and getting laid
because it's all done by rote
and next week you may have no idea
where the hell she is
other than 
as far as you know
some other world

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

TURN BACK TOMORROW by Tim Schaefer...Kindle edition is FREE today through February 12th--from Amazon .com

Hey kids, just wanted to let you know that you can download the Kindle edition of my new novel, Turn Back Tomorrow, for FREE today through February 12th only! This is the e-book version of my totally ADULT time travel thriller that sells for eleven bucks on Amazon. All I ask in return is that when you've completed the book, please consider giving it an honest review on my Amazon book page. Reviews are what make or break a book. Thanks! Love ya!
(Sorry, links aren't working, for some reason. Just go to and type the title of the book into the search box at the top of the page, and my book info will come up.)

Excerpt from Turn Back Tomorrow:

There was so much to learn about her--so many questions. In a way, he still felt like this was a fantasy--that the lot of them could very well be mentally unstable and this whole flying saucer business no more than a delusion they shared. But to be a total skeptic, here and now, with all that had passed before his eyes--a beloved president and a civil rights leader gunned down, Watergate, Vietnam, hanky-panky in the oval office--one would have to be delusional to blindly accept the official version of things. Half truths. Manipulation of public opinion through the media. Outright lies. A bit of the conspiracy theorist must exist in all who have traveled this road, and thus a mind that is open to thinking the unthinkable.

Tuesday, February 7, 2017


Broke out the Steely Dan in the car yesterday (as I've been known to do), then thought of this little ditty from three years ago I penned as an homage to the lyrics of Donald Fagen. Had a lot of fun with it, and if you ain't heard's new to YOU! (You can sing it to the tune of "Pretzel Logic")

If I didn't have to pee
I might not get up in the morning
said if I never had to pee
I might just forgo the day
you can take those dancin' slippers
and just throw them away
yeah toss them away

All the boyz told me

that you were so nice
lordy all the boyz told me
that you were so nice
didn't know you were a working girl
and that everything has its price
gonna pay the price

If you live in New York City
you dunno how to sing the blues
said if you live in New York City
ya dunno how to sing the blues
till you meet some chippie from Chicago
who's gonna give you the news
yeah she'll give you the news

Everybody out there

you know they're right on the edge
I said everybody out there
is ridin' right on the edge
they'll hit you with a hammer
an' push you right off that ledge

dah diddly doo
dah diddly day
dah diddly dun da dun da dun dun
da diddly hey
wah wah wah wah wah wah
wha wah wah wah woo
wang wang wang wang wang wang
da diddly diddly OOH

Who's that dude in the mirror

the one I heard somebody call "Pops"
I said now who's that freak in the mirror
buys all his duds from resale shops
if he don't get outta my house
I'm gonna have to call the cops!

Now if I didn't have to pee
I might not get up in the morning
If I never had to pee
might just forgo the day
you can bring me my coffee
and a side of creme brulee

If you live in New York City

you dunno how to sing the blues
if you live in New York City
dunno how to sing the blues
till you meet some chippie from Chicago
who's gonna give you the news
she gave Huey the news

da diddly doo

da diddly day
da diddly dun dun dun dun dun 
da diddly hey....