Wednesday Morning

September 17, 2014

move… MOVE
mixing bowl
crack in the egg
pour the oil
measure sugar
measure the rest
teaspoons, Tablespoons
the salt the powder the vanilla
mix and stir and ready the iron
dress the boy
put on shoes
get laundry to the backdoor
beep
the maker is ready
batter down, sizzle
close the lid
quickly now
turkey, cheese, mayo, slice the bread
slap it all together
baggies, gold fish crackers
Danimals, water bottle filled
the last banana
all packed up
rush out back to the washer
soap, clothes, load
set to tap cold
lock the garage
back inside
ding
burn fingers
waffle hot
plate
butter, syrup, cut into pieces
serve the child
don’t forget to feed yourself
clean the dishes brush the teeth
his and mine
water jugs into the car
back inside
sandals on wrong feet
take off, switch around
back on proper
come on!
don’t stop moving
don’t stop moving
a mantra chanted to brain and body
in motion
do not cease
into the safety seat
belt locked
back out of drive
wait for speeding truck
wait for neighbor sleepily crossing road
go, go, go
fight traffic
blinded by the rising sun
find parking
walk son to school
don’t forget lunch box
don’t forget home work
hug and dash
back to car
drive
buy bananas
fill the water jugs
behold the beer in the cooler
behold my thirst at eight in the morning
no time
screw on lids
two five gallon loads from store
into parking lot
fumble for keys
unlock door and again drive
to gas station
forty on pump 7
impatiently tap foot as fuel flows
$38.47
run in for change
tell clerk to keep the pennies
back home
unload
remember to shit
you’ve held it all morning
nothing, nothing
one small turd
you wouldn’t even avoid to step in
flush, wipe, back to the wash
weighted with water
into dryer
think again
for the thousandth time
how it would be nice
to have a line
no time for idle day dreams
run, back to house
sit down, write and type this crap, and back to car
the hours are short, school bells ringing
errands persistent
coffee
when will there be a pause

Hashtag Race Relations

September 15, 2014

a proud white halo glows saintly
encircling the shooter’s head
pure and right
the vanquished devil at his feet
face down, dispatched
unholy ghoul ridded from the Earth
dead forever as is just…
a scenario as true to 1814
as it is to 2014
why fuck with over 200 years of tradition
let sleeping dead nigger dogs lie
or charge like bulls
high on marijuana stolen cigarillos
any reason to pull the trigger
give it and the murder is done
acquitted, forgiven and absolved
goodbye to bad black rubbish
a peace sign’s a gang sign
a playful rap’s a manifesto
a thug is a thug is a dog whistle
no cop ever had no cause to fire
fear for his safety
that’s it boy
the light is scared of the dark
scared for his life
scared to death
beat that, you can’t
you cunt
riot at will
that’s where we’ve pushed you
that’s what we want
that’ll help
and then we kill

Shut the Fuck Up

September 13, 2014

VOLUME is the worst authority
loud BOMBASTIC order
never clear, but dear to follow
shout, OBEY
JUMP, how high
to do one better than the SCREAM
repeat
over and over, come again
hammered HARD by repetition
march, MARCH
bow, KNEEL, memorize
comfortable routine
turned up to ELEVEN
deaf and well-rehearsed
surrendered to the verse
the chorus, DRUM and thrum
as cops come
neighbors complain
NOISE and time and new authority
against me
my band
they’d love to silence
stop the song
cease the dance
end the beauty… in the name of the law
when extinction comes
man will have plenty of time
to be quiet
so for now LET’S NOT!!!11!

Squeal of Authority

September 10, 2014

happiness is a shadow cast
joy a stain
who I am and what I do
in no way is sane
projector brain upon the world
my cone of light
perception cast
in there goes out
bias, beliefs, preconception
culture internalized
transmitted externalized
feedback loop of reality
like a sweet dessert fountain
chocolate ejaculating upward
cascading over lips
a shower down to the bottom
sucking it all again, pumping
a closed circuit
inside the bubble
immune to outside infection
the world must be and work
the way I perceive it to
contradictions erased
shouted at
shot full of lead
it is a threat, black
and I am a southern white cop
there is only one way
my reality is to be maintained
might and denial

Wasted Design

September 8, 2014

patterns and faces
the core of art
sign posts
one way arrows pointing back
where we came from
gods and spirits
squabbling and spiting
smiting crops and settlements
deified shepherds, goat keeps and hunters
scrambling the signal
muddling information
our clear communication
with one another
with the environment
the concerns of our gods
the nature of our art
all of it evidence
of our evolution
the physical bile, blood and phlegm
of our existence
our thirst, our hunger
our politics and culture
arise burning from DNA
as simple as that
a big picture so banal
a design so prosaic
no intelligence
upon it
would waste itself

ESPeepers

September 5, 2014

brain transference is not science fiction
no electrodes, fancy helmets
or machines that go ‘BZZT’ required
packing the contents of one brain
into another isn’t lab work
it’s more easily accomplished in church
in song, on knees, in tears, on endorphins
it is of utmost importance
for them to know what’s in your mind
if they wish to enforce their Law
against your crime
apostate, heretic, unbeliever
Confess! Confess! your sins
to the ESP-ping Toms
outside in the dark
spreading the branches for a view
into you, an open window
and you are seen
and you are condemned
naked, ashamed and guilty

There Will Be No Ark

September 4, 2014

intelligence is not a levee
it grants no protection
from the storm-churned sea of irrationality
belief undermines intellect
erodes far below
where once there was solid ground
a loose soup of sediment sinks facts
swallowing the evidence
out of their sight
out of their minds
fear is the hammer
faith is the anvil
the sword forged is destruction
to hack away the walls of reason
stab holes through the dike
let the mad waters rush in
to cleanse the land of science
leaving only flooded ruin
it is coming
enemies of logic are the rain
now is antediluvian
the aftermath awaits

Rock Hudson

September 3, 2014

push calm into the horror
give no sign of discomfort
do not flinch, wince or grimace
smooth sailing, restful failing
this pleasure cruise is off well
listing starboard on to hell
smack marooned
nowhere to go
rocky upward jutting
bitey atoll cunting
stranded is as stranded does
blistery, burnt and uncomfortably hurt
wink at him as he passes
but how he does go on no backward glances
where none travail
you slouch
no angel
your time is not yours
lasting impressions wait to be had
as cramping blood does clench so bad
inhale
slowly
exhale
steadily
can you
will you
give her your best
laid to rest
into the horror
calmly push, push… push and come

The Suck Cross

August 26, 2014

Balance over what gazes back
across the plank in the eye
arms straight out to the sides
nailed true east and west
hold steady
maintain the stance
care and caution are key
an abyss under waits
hungry as a newborn
suck response nipple seeking
best advice:
avoid being milked
stay the course
above the staring dark
high
that craves the fall
into its depths
beautifully black
swirling vortex
sucking
more than metaphor
no simple trick
to get across the trap
to tap the cross
drain its sap
drink deep its sticky soul-sucking sweets

Imagine Cheap

August 25, 2014

imagine, if you will, belief
not just any
but the package deal
phone, internet, cable all bundled
the whole enchilada
god, afterlife and soul
you get it all
in one convenient bill of faith
the first one, the biggie
I wonder how much it matters
would you buy it without the extras
like a train, tracks not included
nowhere to choo-choo
nothing but the grand pooba
just sittin’ there, chillaxin’
idly observing its creation
not a lot to write home about
the gospel according to boredom, right?
who’d want it
but you tie on a soul to the deal
that what separates humanity
from unthinking beasts that creepeth
and you start to have yourself something
throw that in a pot with a potato and baby
you got a stew going
even if it were temporary
selfdom, a special spark making you, you
that’s an offer to snap at
if it were more though
more akin to homeowner
than rent to a landlord
the ability to transcend the land
into spiritual space
forever and ever
a special place to call home
once done abusing the vessel
well, well, well…
what sweet corporate whorin’
three for the price of one
you’re bought and you’re sold
a ticket, a meal
and a destination on this train
but a bargain this good must have hidden costs
you think
and it does
a small line item:
your brain
cheap, huh?


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