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Shithead Laureate
Hello.
I am Homeless.
Soon your head will be my home.
No…
Your head is already my home.
My thoughts are inside of you as you read this.
Therefore, I am inside of you now. Living inside you. Walking around in my boxer briefs. Scratching my balls. Rearranging the mental furniture inside your head. Opening the space up in case I feel like entertaining.
I plan on entertaining.
Thank you for letting me live inside your head.
Thank you for giving me a warm place to stay.
At least for now.
I am Homeless.
Hello.
Hello…
I am Homeless.
Soon your head will be my home.
No…
Your head is already my home.
My thoughts are inside of you as you read this.
Therefore, I am inside of you now. Living inside you. Walking around in my boxer briefs. Scratching my balls. Rearranging the mental furniture inside your head. Opening the space up in case I feel like entertaining.
I plan on entertaining.
Thank you for letting me live inside your head.
Thank you for giving me a warm place to stay.
At least for now.
I am Homeless.
Hello.
Hello…
- GenresPoetry
93 pages, Paperback
Published July 13, 2021
15 people want to read
About the author
Homeless
6 books26 followersHomeless is the author of five books, including the novel “This Hasn't Been a Very Magical Journey So Far.” He’s been published by Hobart, House of Vlad and Expat Press. He putters around NYC wondering whatever happened to predictability, the milkman, the paperboy, evening TV.
His second novel, “My Heart Belongs in an Empty Big Mac Container Buried Beneath the Ocean Floor,” was published by Clash Books, November 2024.
His second novel, “My Heart Belongs in an Empty Big Mac Container Buried Beneath the Ocean Floor,” was published by Clash Books, November 2024.
Ratings & Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
March 14, 2022
Homeless is a wizard with outlandish similies and metaphors, which he manages to ground in real life emotions, behaviours and feelings. Some are like a finger in the asshole of literature as they come as a shock at first, but bring a smile to face seconds later.
He's a poet who sees the secret moments that people barely acknowledge, but never judges no matter how shameful they may seem on the surface.
I love this kind of writing that sees into the heart of human behaviour and let's us know its alright to be gross sometimes.
He's a poet who sees the secret moments that people barely acknowledge, but never judges no matter how shameful they may seem on the surface.
I love this kind of writing that sees into the heart of human behaviour and let's us know its alright to be gross sometimes.
July 13, 2021
A book review for Shithead Laureate should only be written in black marker on a carboard flap, carelessly torn from the box it once helped close. Sort of like the “screaming cardboard” featured in one of Homeless’s poems. But I don’t have good penmanship. So a typed review will have to do.
Homeless, the author of the aforementioned poetry collection, has beautiful penmanship. The letters and numbers adorning the envelope he mailed his book in were delicate, their openings in full bloom, their lines straight. This surprise shouldn’t have come as a surprise, since artists have beautiful handwriting.
Shithead Laureate showcases Homeless’s talent as a poet and an illustrator. Interspersed between pages of fatless poems all at once funny, tragic, and poignant are mischievous-looking characters that may sniff paint. They are sort of like the doodles that would crowd a disturbed student’s notebook margins, except that they are well done. Exceptional even, rising above the realm of doodle.
But enough about the art. The poems therein are what really shine, like the glimmering glass eye of a bludgeoned whore, as Homeless might say. But not about himself, nor his own work, as Homeless is incredibly modest. His poems, for instance, are unpretentiously untitled and use words that anyone can understand. Even me.
The unexpected twists in his poems are like compound fractures—a flash of bone where you anticipated flesh. Nothing, absolutely nothing, about Homeless’s Shithead Laureate is cliché. The metaphors and similes writhing upon the stump garden of his poetry collection are original and inspiring, which, as a poet myself, is a true indicator of good work. When you finally find yourself writing good stuff because of what you’ve been reading, what you’ve been feeding yourself, that’s when you know you’ve come across something special. That, and when you’re jealous of the author because you wished you came up with that idea or turn of phrase. That’s also a good indicator.
Look, I’m not going to go on and on. Shithead Laureate is a fine book of poems that you will enjoy if you are a lover of poetry and especially if you don’t like poetry. Take it for me, a random person, you won’t be disappointed.
Homeless, the author of the aforementioned poetry collection, has beautiful penmanship. The letters and numbers adorning the envelope he mailed his book in were delicate, their openings in full bloom, their lines straight. This surprise shouldn’t have come as a surprise, since artists have beautiful handwriting.
Shithead Laureate showcases Homeless’s talent as a poet and an illustrator. Interspersed between pages of fatless poems all at once funny, tragic, and poignant are mischievous-looking characters that may sniff paint. They are sort of like the doodles that would crowd a disturbed student’s notebook margins, except that they are well done. Exceptional even, rising above the realm of doodle.
But enough about the art. The poems therein are what really shine, like the glimmering glass eye of a bludgeoned whore, as Homeless might say. But not about himself, nor his own work, as Homeless is incredibly modest. His poems, for instance, are unpretentiously untitled and use words that anyone can understand. Even me.
The unexpected twists in his poems are like compound fractures—a flash of bone where you anticipated flesh. Nothing, absolutely nothing, about Homeless’s Shithead Laureate is cliché. The metaphors and similes writhing upon the stump garden of his poetry collection are original and inspiring, which, as a poet myself, is a true indicator of good work. When you finally find yourself writing good stuff because of what you’ve been reading, what you’ve been feeding yourself, that’s when you know you’ve come across something special. That, and when you’re jealous of the author because you wished you came up with that idea or turn of phrase. That’s also a good indicator.
Look, I’m not going to go on and on. Shithead Laureate is a fine book of poems that you will enjoy if you are a lover of poetry and especially if you don’t like poetry. Take it for me, a random person, you won’t be disappointed.
September 24, 2021
Love this book. SHiTHEAD LAUREATE gets into the greasy grime that festers deep inside the skin tag clogged crevices of the human condition and somehow manages to carve the stuff most don’t want to talk about into moments of breathtaking relief. The artwork is killer too. I look forward to seeing what Homeless makes next.
September 3, 2021
Says the shithead laureate himself.
April 20, 2022
Finished the book and I’m still lovin’ it … Ba Da Ba Ba Bah!
September 26, 2024
As you might guess from the title, the verse in this collection is raw, graphic, and often coarse. This book appears to give an unfiltered look at homelessness and the dispossessed.
November 5, 2021
A bunch of very solid poems of the Brautigan-persuasion through the xoxo lens of the modern dystopia.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews