Lord of the Flies

I hold high the glass of beer
peer up at the meniscus
the head perched upon it
foam bubbles like pregnant bellies
pushing into the golden draught’s depths
a swarm of gas rises to the lather
bursting fragrantly into the world above
where I wait
glass solemnly lowered
tilted unto the lips
the amber deluge
washing a fruit fly away
over my peanut salted lips
down the throat like a flume
a sacrifice made to me
the tiny drunken life
this God is well pleased

Heaven Up Your Ass

You justify your life
knowing it’s been wasted
the ultimate in buyer’s remorse
piano hammers of cognitive dissonance
playing your head
to an old familiar tune
“our mortality,” you’re singing
“is precisely that that which gives our lives meaning.”
well, on that
I call bullshit
no life
has ever meant more
because the person who lived it
is dead
mine won’t
my wife’s and my son’s won’t
and neither will yours
face the facts
and cool it with the self-justifying crap

For Good Measure

a recipe is a poem
a consumptive language
plain upon the plate
to be cherished
only temporarily
and in memory
in the end
a digestible metaphor
draining away
sheaths of waste
bound for the sea

Viva Denial

Those who deny evolution
shouldn’t be allowed to breed
if they believe
themselves to be above
and beyond
other animals
that they are somehow
outside that kingdom
because of their membership
in a supposedly blesséd one
then their rights as an animal
should be subject to revocation
their self-proscribed status
as exulted and separate
is a conceit that rips them
out of the natural order
stripping them of nature’s liberty
to live naturally
creatures of artificial creation
must be regulated and controlled
supervised and moderated at all times
on the streets
in their homes
between the sheets
if they think their Creator
their God
their Lord and Master
is a harsh judge and legislator
then wait until the get a load of Me

Accountability, None

mysterious ways are bullshit

honest work is done openly
subject to criticism
reasons must be given
for the methods used

without regulations and oversight
there can be no trust
what faith can be had
for undertakings performed in secrecy

when there is failure and malfunction
we demand an explanation

people don’t put up with this behavior
from their public officials
from police, plumbers
or even from the damn waiter
so why in the fuck
would they put up with this garbage
from their God?

Sophisticated Theology

It is the wont of God
to not do things
He is completely capable of doing.

Theologically, this problem,
or if you prefer
language less loaded,
this issue,
concerns wickedness.

Specifically,
God’s unwillingness to halt it.

To explain this,
free will has been developed.

If there’s evil,
then it’s caused by the will of men.

God refuses to interfere.

This is sophisticated theological reasoning.

God is reduced to an impotent braggart,
like a child
who taunts petulantly,
and says,
“I can do that, but I don’t want to.”

Miscarriage of Confabulation

nit-picking inparticulars
in reminiscences
irrationally rage
no virtuousness confirmed
on a high moldering stage
a forlorn actor
no hero to play
the narrative so far
a meticulously constructed crust
mosaic of cherished debris
long and gently tended
slips and shatters
scattering like scales off a crystal fish
across the dust-dry boards
naked and defenseless
writhing worm rasping unwritten lines
a sad show performed before empty seats
cold echoes of its own croaks
return as mocking applause
a feedback loop
tying up loose ends to their beginnings
like a noose
around the failed storyteller’s neck

Justified Espresso

Out on a walk
a lovely morning
before the sun burns out
the marine layer
pleasant breeze
scent of blossoms on it
a spring in my step
I stroll along the pavement
content and carefree
until
and it always gets me
other people
no matter who
beautiful young woman in a summer dress
crusty old hobo sucking desperate cigarettes
the reaction is the same
sweat pricks my skin
pace slows
eyes size up potential weapons
paths of flight
please, turn up a driveway
get into a car
don’t make us cross paths
the inevitable happens
someone must initiate
voice croaking from disuse
I say, “Hello,” or some such
and for the other
it’s nothing
an encounter of zero consequence
but that single word
resounds around the bends and ways of my brain
it echoes
in all its detail
pronunciation, inflection, volume
I hate how I said it
“hello, hello, hello”
I think over and over again
dissatisfied
knowing how I’ve been judged
by that tone in my voice
all these horrible people
expecting greetings
social animals vocalizing benevolence
but underneath it
is the reason it’s there
manners and etiquette
icing on a shit biscuit
fuck why’d I ever leave the house
there’s no such thing
as contentment on a lovely morning
the lies I tell myself
to make going out for a cup of coffee worthwhile
are complicated and many

Oh, Bird. You, Devil.

Fire Catcher tumbles
bolt in beak
sting sung to the forest floor untamed
sudden brilliant flower explosion
apocalypse unexplained
horrors of chance
strained for sane solutions
found and paved into law
taught and learned
learned and taught
truth is an engraving carved skinward
ours, alien, vegetable and mineral
stories told
to soothe and calm and embalm
whether Noah and God and killer flood
or Lightning and Bird and killer flame

Why White Conservatives Fear Soccer

Their stronghold’s pinnacle of strength
comes from the unity their people most love
when they deny to others
rights they themselves do enjoy.

Slavery is the conservative way
no matter how small
whatever superiority can be conserved
must be.

Give me a list
if you’re not the white man on it
then they’re against you
in some minor way
the minority must meet suppression
to succeed at an equal rate
as society’s deity
would strip the godhood from the pale skin
no longer would it dazzle
brilliant, spectacular, blinding
perfectly reflecting the light of the Lord
and then what
on a level playing field
would the game look like?

I’ll tell you
every last Caucasian
on their every last back
would be clutching their every last knee
crying, “Foul! Foul!”
as they search for the cash they once had
to bribe the referee