Archive for November, 2014

Bad Guy With a Knife

November 30, 2014

His taste in books
was strictly airport
Grisham, Crichton
that stuff
exiting the library
this time he had a Koontz
the jacket promised
it would be a heart-stopping
supernatural thrill ride
Jerry liked the sound of that
walking along the pavement
at the last second
he tore his eyes away from his reading
narrowly avoiding a collision
“Excuse me,” Jerry said
and this stranger,
a street-encrusted middle aged man,
barked back
“Fuck excuse me,”
words that startled Jerry
he turned back to protest
but this time
at the last second
he avoided the blade
as it flashed forward
Jerry shielded himself
it thrust into Innocence
penetrating through the hard cover
and half way into chapter one
Jerry jerked the Koontz aside
wresting the weapon
out from his assailants clutches
surprised by all this
Jerry prised the knife from the text
his attacker dropped fetal to concrete
and cried
a piercing wail of anguish and despair
Jerry was shaking
wide eyed, pulse pounding
when suddenly
a voice from behind issued a command
“Drop the knife,” it ordered
startled to his wit’s end
Jerry turned to look
as he did so
the first of seven bullets discharged
from the police officers Glock 22
struck him true
six shots
fired in rapid succession
to shoulders, chest and belly
and then a pause
the cop taking better aim
sending the ultimate slug
direct into Gerald’s brain
for now he was dead
and although his friends called him Jerry
on the certificate of death
it would say Gerald


X Fingers

November 28, 2014

You say nothing
I was told
he’s sensitive
gets upset easily
about it still
so don’t mention
his missing fingers
or ask
how he lost them
I said to her I would
she was his ex
she was my current
we went to the party
I shook his hand
and I said
you’re missing fingers
how’d ya lose ‘em?
he told me
we got along great
and before you knew it
she was my ex too

Preservation Society

November 26, 2014

two sides clash
again the common enemy
is ignored
poor against poor
as it always shall be
knives bore over bread crumbs
loaves like clouds above laugh
turn to stone
rain as bombs on the battlefield
broken and bloody bones
sucked clean at feasts
in hillside homes
the standard preserved

Blue in the Butter

November 24, 2014

Poor old Evelyn
died out churning in the yard
kicked off the lid
tossed the stick to the pigs
and went head first in
to the butter
black buckled shoes skyward
on the ends of hose-clad gams
their was a kind of slurp
coming from the barrel
grunts of curious hogs
coming from the pen
and that’s how fat Jack
fat from too much butter
a widower became
neighbors ever after claimed
if fat Jack
had given it to Evelyn
half as good as Evelyn gave it to the butter
well, a gal don’t commit suicide with her heart aflutter
speaking of which, heart attack
that’s what killed Jack

Monstrous Emptiness

November 22, 2014

In the center of it all is an absence
a pocket of air at the core of the Tootsie Pop
we are accumulations
around us
wrapped up in blankets of taste and culture
constructed by our works and possessions
so thoroughly ensconced
in the collection
of our words, actions, and passions
that we believe the ephemera
is us
who we are
but in an instance of annihilation
we discover we are nothing
an abscess in the tooth of a beast
a slobbering carnivorous unconsciousness
devouring the Earth
belching our undistinguished destiny

Mortality in the Trash

November 20, 2014

The countdown is done
in disposable razor heads
depleted deodorant sticks
ways of waste to number the days
sponges past their season
oat tubs of dust
curbside trash collected and taken away
lest we should bury ourselves in our homes
before the grave

One of a Kind

November 17, 2014

To say
a person is one of a kind
is in essence true
but only in the most banal sense
of everyone ever having lived
being so
thus negating exactly that
what was meant by stating it
in the first place

If you had never existed
somebody else
would very likely be you
be filling your role
your niche as a living thing
as all water flows
inevitably, inexorably
to settle
at the lowest level

Dyed in the Wool

November 14, 2014

There was a time once
when they would have
known each other
even in a city of this size
one woman hair of azure
another in violet locks
estranged by a pane of glass
side by side
heads an inch apart
but these badges worn
in the fight against cultural norms
these medals of distinction
outward signs to attract
like minded co-conspirators
have all collapsed
submerged into the culture they opposed
in doing so
become meaningless
insignificant dye
infusing dead cells
the tribes can no longer recognize
their own
or the other
we all speak the same tongue
but the word’s extrinisic values
do not add up to the same
the context betrays
nobody understands
all that was stolen in the blink of a generation
how the rebellion was lost
by reversing god’s verdict
at the tower

The Oinkster

November 11, 2014

don’t change now
that you’re middle-aged
and overweight
carry on as you were
would you stop
cheating on your spouse
because you fear
with one more infidelity
you’ll lose her
you’ll not find another
who would consider
betrothing herself
to your sagging ass
flagging cock and beer gut
keep marching pig
through bedrooms of strangers
through McDonald’s drive-thrus
why quit today
what are you gonna do
learn to cook
scrub pots
delight in subtle combinations
of spices and herbs
p’shaw! rubbish!
soldier on
sucking the golden bounty
out of long neck bottles
there’s an off-duty nurse
giving you the eye
you still got it
she’s got a purse full of Percocet
you got an open tab
and a belly full of beef
the kids are all out of high school
who does a broken home really effect
this years Mustangs are looking good
don’t you deserve one
if only you could afford it, but…
god damn wife and god damn kids
god damn dental and god damn medical
stuck in a hole that’s what you are
so it’s understandable
to stick yourself in a few holes for a good time
who can blame you
bitch at home that’s who
fuck her ~ tonight’s your night
a man’s right
his inalienable right – the pursuit of pleasure
eat, drink and be merry
let off steam
if boys can’t be boys
then however else
are you gonna feel young again


November 7, 2014

compulsively chicken-pecking
to summon the signal
glassy-eyed vacant
too stupid to press
the large yellow target
even once

displaying irrationality
in their belief
they know how to cross
the street better than others
irritatingly marching against
the orders of the red hand
on a shortened green light
totally fucking over drivers
turning left

both types
in case you need to be told
tend to really piss me off