Dadku flows from Brian Braiker like bullshit from a BP executive’s mouth. Please enjoy this, his latest batch of poems. Like Forrest Gump, they are simple, yet labyrinthine.


Mr. Chuck E. Cheese:
I suspect that “E” stands for
E. Coli. BOOYA!

Saturday: 9p.
Torn between Netflix and bed.
My younger self weeps.

“You want to eat some
Ice cream/candy/string cheese/pie
For breakfast? Ask Mom.”

I hate to tell you:
That cat never scratched a soul
Until there was you.

You’ve taught me so much.
Like: my LP collection
Doubles as Frisbees.

So maybe I laughed
When under your wee nose you
Drew a Hitler ‘stache