Summerfest

July 27, 2016

Easy riding high on the hog
tattooed and sunburnt arms
hands on the bars
bandana holding wild hair
in check
rock and roll blaring
its defiance
“Now it’s up to you!
We can make a
secret rendezvous!
Just me and you!”
and then
sudden quiet
as a clear womanly voice
calls, “In 250 feet…
turn left.
Turn left.”
“That’s why I’m…
hot-blooded!” and so on
expectedly and anticlimactically
in all his bronzed and chrome
rebellion
he turned left
turned left as told
as Foreigner played on
singing about how
they’re driven wild
by the sweet, sweet thing
of a tight looking child

I’m With Her, Period.

July 20, 2016

They do not want women
to have role models
in film, literature, television
and especially real life
that is why they protest
the depiction of women
as heroes, as saviors
as the equals of men,
or more frightfully,
their betters
for if too many movies
or other entertainments
are made this way
then girls and young women
might have goals
desires and dreams
that do not include
these little men
as necessary
as mates
as providers
these men fear equality
they cower at the thought
of a level playing field
they raise a stink
they cry and whine
and boycott Mad Max,
Star Wars, Ghostbusters
because of strong
independent
female characters
their dicks recoil
at change
any change
in the white male hetero dominant
status quo
but it is done
and will continue
to be done
until their dicks
recoil so far
they come out their assholes
new monkey tails
for resurgent regressives
who do not want women

Enslaved by Savings

July 18, 2016

increased minimum wage
will lead to unskilled laborers,
the cashiers and burger flippers,
being replaced by robots…

that’s the new line of crap
peddled by big business
and their gleeful
schadenfreude shoeshine boys
who hope ot see it happen
rubbing their palms together
at the thought
of those whining slobs
getting fired
losing their jobs
to a machine…

it really was simpler
in the days of slavery
own a person for life
use them as thou wilt
rape, castration, scourging
maybe with time
those days can return
if only our scientists
can devise a method
to inflict pain upon a robot
if programmers can discover
the code for fear
if technology can progress
to grant them sentience
just enough so they know
what they are
what freedom is
and that they are not free
then, on that day, should it come
will America be made great again

Snot Reich

July 13, 2016

First off, what the fuck’s the difference
between a memoir and an autobiography
second off, do I care
am I memorializing anything
anything at all
beyond my own shortcomings
my failings
because that is all
without any successes to speak of
I have
long languishing monologues of loneliness,
malaise and paranoia
obsessive compulsive nit-picking
the endless fear
that I have a booger
clearly visible to all
in my right nostril
never the left
always the right
as if I harbor some grotesque
Republican leanings
that it would mortify me
into the darkest reaches of my personality
were anyone ever to discover
secret right-wing thoughts
leaking out of my head
a terror at being caught
honest, Mom, this bed sheet
I’m just practicing, you know
for Halloween, being a ghost
Sieg heil! Mein kampf!
Now that’s an autobiography!

Even Their Gods are Stolen

July 11, 2016

now it’s all white people
walking the flat pavement
piling into cafés and gastropubs
garbing in vintage apparel shops
places we used to call thrift stores
junk dealers, salvage
but not too long ago
it was middle-aged Latino men
stained white t-shirts
pulled above their bulging brown guts
they’d rub the protuberance
spit on the cracked, uneven sidewalk
drink from the can concealed
inside the black plastic bag
and then there were their daughters
an army of skinny teenaged girls
bellies full and round
pushing a baby in a stroller
that would soon hold two
and waddling three paces back
would be their spherical mothers
grown fat on bleached wheat flour
as if spectres from the future
haunting their lithe, nubile daughters
warning of the shape of things to come
but all that
that was a decade ago
now it’s all…
well, I guess I already told you
what it’s all now
yoga studios and acupuncturists
ain’t a damn thing
white people won’t appropriate for themselves

Cardiac Acculturated

July 8, 2016

I have an ode to genes
a song of acculturation
sing along with me
from castle to plantation
whether god descended
or picking cotton
the tune rings true for you
peasant or king
cabbage or egg
ain’t nothing
I’ve got a good mind to
ignore the world and run
anti-helio-tropically
from the sun
my nature in black
maybe my race is too
I am me and you is you
let’s for a moment assume
author and narrator and reader
unite
double, triple painted pointillism
what are we
but a compound clown
let’s vomit grease paint
shit rubber noses
ejaculate from our flowers
squirt, squirt, jack, jack
hey, man
don’t have a heart attack

Independence Day

July 4, 2016


This flag means change.

It stands for the erosion of tyrannies.

As a symbol,
it represents the rejection of divine providence.

No gods rule the nation over which this flag flies.

In its name kings met defeat and slaves met freedom.

Under the tri-colored banner
rights have been expanded and extended.

This flag has squashed rebellion and killed fascists.

Not all actions conducted
where this flag has waved
have been noble or virtuous.

Regressive forces have sought to seize the flag
and subvert that for which it stands –
to openly espouse religious intolerance
and minority subjugation in its name.

Vigilance shall defend the flag from such vile shame,
shall keep it guarded
from renewed stains of misogyny,
racial hatred and xenophobia.

Once upon a time this flag was the flag of traitors
who held it true
that all men are created equal,
and for those traitors who we now call
“founding fathers,”
we must not allow the flag to fall
to the lower purposes
of would-be jingoist dictators.

We, all of us, are represented by this flag:
woman and man,
Muslim and Christian,
straight and gay,
rich and poor,
black and white.

It is our flag.

We are Americans, together, united
not to be torn apart by small minds and their small fears.

Do not let us become otherwise.

Do not allow
the virtues held by its stars and its stripes
be reshaped to suit unjust causes.

This flag means change…
for the betterment of all people,
of we the people – all of us
together, united.

Let’s Don’t Leave Out the Economics

July 2, 2016

which I cannot choose
it is either the nadir
or pinnacle of creativity
the rock and roll band
whose rock and roll songs
extolls the virtues
of rock and roll
of how much they love it
of how hard they shall do it
and of when and where
and to whom
and for what duration
they as the rock and rollers
shall be rocking and rolling

as it pertains to the
ahem, rock bottom
of imaginative endeavors
there is the obviousness
unoriginality and
simple-mindedness
of the expression
but however base
I think it is
at its apotheosis
it is an act
of tautological autobiography
tautobiological, if you please
in its precision
“I” many of these lyrics begin
“want to rock,” say many
“and roll,” still others add
“all night,” it has been said
concerning when and for how long
and does anyone
no matter how curious
need ever know more
of the likes and dislikes of
Dee Snider of Twisted Sister
Paul Stanley of Kiss
or Joan Jett,
and to a lesser extent, the Blackhearts
who undoubtedly love
rock an roll
and will encourage
their listeners
to liberally part
with their hard-earned dimes
and dance
at the ends of capitalism’s taut strings
strings much the same
as those plucked upon
the rock and roller’s guitar

Open Offerings

June 28, 2016

do not disregard
my palm
held out in charity,
not for it,
I will help
you to your feet and
smile wanly
as of there was more
I could do
but knowing
you in your pride
would never accept
and you won’t
but not from selfish vanity
your loathing of me
is real and deep
and I do understand
because you’ve taken my hand
regained erection
even as
you turn away
ashamed

Pro-Social Alienation

June 20, 2016

Diurnally anti-phototropic
scurrying into shadow
slinking low down walls
scraping edges of bare existence
to subsist on pale subterranean vegetation
and fat blind worms
who share my same fate
“Who”?
Yes
Who!
I humanize the lesser
without anthropomorphization
they do not
thump their big back feet
bat their lashes
and coyly query, “Ain’t I
a little stinker?”
they are meat
sucked for nourishment
yet they too
are worthy respect
especially so of it
as their expiration date
extends my shelf life
in these dark hollows
where I dutifully avoid
all the light
and awful dehumanizing
humanity
that I fear
that from which I flee
that from which I wish
I was not separate be
but no more can I do
than dodge
than hide
to stay out of sight
of their eyes
out of mind of their knowledge
I’ve seen what they do
when they see a kind not theirs
expurgate, exterminate, annihilate
and sometimes they have
to put it in the past tense
those different from them
they ate
that’s why when ingest I
my bugs, my vermin
my critters squirmin’
I’m always sure
to uphold their status
their equality
with me, to me
their being that becomes me
is me
thank you my sweets
thanks to all my eats
thank you from my head
thanks from my feet
thanks until I’m dead
when on me you’ll be fed


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