April 22, 2014

An older boy
the typical villain of youth
red-headed, pale-skinned, armpit hair
smokes rolled in his sleeve
and the devil’s blue eyes
between thumb and forefinger
he dangled a skinny green snake
caught slithering through the lawn
a slender live wire lost
too far from the safety of tall grass fields
his family cat
stared at the snake
transfixed as if by a hypnotist’s watch
but it wasn’t slowly getting sleepy
the thing was torqued for murder
and I felt that it and the boy
were one
a young warlock and his ginger feline familiar
a clawed-paw swung
batted the inverted viper’s skull
it swung like a pendulum
scaled muscles flexing, curling upward
desperate to dodge the next blow
as the razors extended
swiped again
opening two ribbon slashes of red
shredded green skin
emerald weeping ruby in sunshine
I demanded he desist
as I tossed the vicious tom aside
“Hey!” the wicked witch shouted
as I
like a cat, like a snake
coiled, poised to strike, unleashed my fist
smashing it weakly but effectively into his schnoz
serpent’s blood, man’s blood, hissing cat
I ran as he lunged for me
like a cat, like a snake
across lawn, over-chain link
and into the safety of tall grass fields I fled
as the evil one called after me and laughed
“Be seeing you soon neighbor!”

Mysterious Ways

April 16, 2014

Creation sprang from loneliness
quavering voice in the wilderness
unfulfilled sapience questing
intelligence slyly molesting
null and void in the abyss
sinful acts of nothingness
sated by conjurative miracle
combination of volatile chemical
flash explosion of light out of dark
divine duty bound destiny sparks
what flint and steel cannot do
mighty magic man surely spews
fast becoming supremacy
watching all spread out from He
forces, vast, rippling, amazing
expansion outward stars blazing
let there be putrid underclass hordes
a dozen for every loyal-caste lord
whole races born to suffer and die
so God won’t live life alone in the sky

Titbits and Niblets

April 11, 2014

they don’t live now
in this abandoned time
a desert dependent
on the fruits of elsewhen
what does grow
watered in precious piss
is but niblets and titbits
weeping barley and withered carrots
substantially nothing
but for whom remains
this meager agriculture
fulfills the demands of their vestigial humanity
here in the wastes of a dried sea
safe in the shadow
of the fallen satellite
so long ago called moon
they no more live
than the wise who fled
escaping this disaster of now
for them
to stay
is a mission
custodians of current-Earth
keeping watch over what god hath given
waiting for His return
as they feed on the bounty of history
from their patch of dirt
they look to the dim receding stars
hearts hollowed by hope
bodies weakened by malnutrition
minds enfeebled by thinning air
they instruct their lethargic young
of their holy duty
to stand their ground
to await their god
and to pray for the souls
of the decadent others
doomed to live life in the past

William Claude

April 7, 2014

Contrary to Fields’s words against drinking water
fish don’t fuck in it
never have
how would the Catholic church of pescado
respond to a rope of roe
left on the sea bed
would dogma dictate
every passing fertile male
shoot his seed upon the pile
or would the tilapia pope
demand abstinence
for was it not Onan the haddock
who did discharge his genetic load
upon the treasures of a guppy
and thus condemned
skewered on Beelzechub’s trident
and left accursed to flop and gasp
fresh for all eternity
high on the cold snowy mountains of Hell

The Cursed Crown

April 4, 2014

Sapience is a grim grind
it casts light upon this futile slog
pushed in anguish through the endless seconds
that despite themselves
end all too soon

To understand life
to comprehend this place
is a sick sorrow
sentience, a sad end
to a delightful evolutionary romp

Cast up on this rock
like a solitary sailor smashed against an atoll
alone, imprisoned by the violent neglect
of vast indifferent distances
so lonely is intelligence
we sing to plants
attempt to interpret whale calls
teach sign language to apes
clearly our cage has driven us mad

We complement ourselves with curses
so smart, so well thought out, so eloquent
when from day one we know the horrors
of education, but we learn to forget
that knowledge dies
like a field of flowers plowed under
for the construction of a library
where we will read, absorb, analyze and critique
where we will strive to become better people
always seeking truth
but we’ve always known the truth
humans are nature corrupted
even our lies reveal this truth
we are fallen, impure, incomplete
our fabrications tell us
we need redemption, purification, enlightenment
and for the attainment of these things
we must subsume our entire lives in the lies
the crowning insult of sapience is not to know this
but to lack the ability to do a thing about it

Absolutely Me!

April 2, 2014

What world would you have
await the dead?

What of you would you choose
to live past your death?

What thoughts
personality traits
or physical aspects?

What of you
do you think
is a matter worth
preserving for all time?

What unique aspect?
What spark of individuality?

Is it an essence?
An idea?
An indefinable spark
that you think makes you
quantifiably you,
importantly you,
and separate from others?

Is it your smile?
Your smell?
Your sense of style?

Is it your grace?
Your genitals?
Your gift of gab?

What of you – in part or whole –
would you deem so indispensible
as to impose it necessarily
upon all eternity?

What cost would you pay
to keep it
alive… undying?

How much are you willing to beg?
To plead, to kneel, to pray?

What time out of this life you’re living
will you invest
in thought and deed
upon your dreams
of another?

What price, eternal life?

The 1% Manifesto

March 31, 2014

Speaking generally
a man should not have too much ambition
there is great dignity and no shame
in performing a society’s low tasks
a job well done
wise philosophers have said
is its own reward
do not tend towards uppishness
the despair at failure
it inevitably brings
is a punishment best avoided
do not, however, perceive this
as a condemnation of perspiration
contrarily, laziness is anathema
hard labor and solid work
performed by a man who knows his place
is most virtuous
bringing honor upon himself
his trade
and his boss
always bear in mind
when feeling the impudent stirrings of dissatisfaction
that there is near at hand
a man who has it worse
for always it is more burdensome
to be employer
than to be employed
the hired man is a weight
carried stoically upon the job creator’s shoulders
be thus fully aware
that it is the workers
who are kept aloft
by the dutiful ambitions
endured equanimously by their social betters
do not make the mistake of Marx
by misguidedly inverting this paradigm
of he who benefits
and he who suffers


March 28, 2014

brainless and repetitive
if it’s a job
people will squeal in grand indignation
it’s beneath them
beneath any human being worthy the name
comparisons to Sisyphus at his stone
fly out faster than spittle flecks of mad abuse
but for all that
they want it
lovers of predictability
for what is experience
if not having gone through it all before
cooking the same meals
driving the same route
drinking the same drink
in the same bar at the same time
tapping at the phone
playing the same game over and over again
on some level we want it
brainless and repetitive
the sex was good why not make it more of the same
Chrysler’s a reliable car, I’ll buy another one of those
that Fox Terrier was fun
let’s replace the dead one with a puppy
there’s really only so much to do
before, by necessity, it’s happening again
and each time an event repeats itself
it takes less thought to complete the task
yet still, you want to hear that song again
and to be sure the band or the DJ will play it
that’s how it goes – the same old song and dance
nobody seems much to mind
until it’s not a choice
like at tax time
or at work
well, fuck it
quit your job
watch everything else work itself out
life on the street’s
a new adventure everyday

Pedophile’s Love Poem

March 25, 2014

sin is a flavor
best imbibed alive
impurity is the essence
the swallow imperfection
for when life is distilled
the burn is never filtered
flavor never clean and neat
dirty is the tongue high on love
a complex body to savor
a practiced and acquired taste
one that demands discipline
to comprehend the heady bouquet
of an elixir too easily wasted in youth
when it is age that brings
the unique characteristics to the table

Here’s to the Breezes

March 22, 2014

proctological exams have shown
95% of mankind
thinks using its ass
don’t be surprised
it’s never been disguised
the homo sapiens’ sapiening ability
ain’t all it’s cracked up to be
out of the crack
up comes the thought
rectal knowledge
fricative blasts
o, what a gas
bias, denial, too much beer
I think therefore I am
but it don’t mean the thought is clear
muddied waters
clouded skies
intoxicated minds
poison the vision of reality
the butt prevails leading from behind
brown eye of the storm
swirling dark, churning thought
round and round and down the drain
all too easy to believe in the head
brain within the skull
like a plant in its pot
but when the wind comes to blow
boughs bend and break
creeping stink overtakes
swaying branches in the breeze
shitting monkeys in the trees


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