Archive for March, 2016

Bank On It

March 30, 2016

It was in their choice of words
“Too Big Too Fail”
when I fell completely
because that’s when
the truth of society
was coldly exposed to us all
naked ugly reality
like a wad of jiggling jellied fat
on the tines of a fork
every last working man and woman
every homemaker
everyone struggling, living
doing as they’re told
as they’re supposed to
was shown behind the curtain
cast past the illusion
there is no American dream
or any other nation’s
there are no happy endings
because there are no people
to be happy
it is all numbers, economics
the raw deductions of maths
and if your value is not big
then you must fail
it is the plan from the start
too small not to step on
the bug must be squashed
“too small to succeed”
that’s the inverted fact of their words
“too big to fail”
and that’s when I fell completely
that’s when I bought my gun

Whither Hate

March 28, 2016

I despise grinning mothers
doting on their children
it’s the expression of a slack-jawed
perpetually bewildered dolt
who jumps up and down, clapping
overjoyed by the mystery
that is a toilet’s flushing mechanism
and the same goes
for the over-attentive father
who feigns deep conversational interest
in the blithering of a three year old
as he leans in and nods
wearing a pensive mask
so the little shit-blister brat
will grow into adulthood
believing its wit magnificent
its opinions indispensible
simply enamored with the sound
of its pathetic squawking pronouncements
but for all those mothers
and motherfucking fathers
it’s the oblivious contentment
they have with their children
as a happy healthy family
I most despise
seeing them
going to cafes and carnivals
street fairs and farmers markets
just enjoying one another’s
worry and care-free company
for them
in those moments I witness
I burn in hate with a hope
life at home is not peace
that Daddy beats Mommy and smokes indoors
and Mommy drinks straight rye and whores
and the kids act out
smearing feces in their hair
as brother and sister
claw at each other’s faces
screams and tears and drawn blood
sticky floors and instant meals
soda guzzlers and nighttime criers
bed-wetters, inflamed rashes
child abuse, rage, molestation
an entire family
sick with anal gonorrhea
and genital warts
membership in the NRA
unlocked, loaded forearms
mass murder
and a final suicide
all of this I vividly dream
lashing out from inside my own pain
my own rage
against indifferent, cruel biology
a crass genetic inheritance
imprinted upon my son
all he’s given
his sick birthright
a loathsome legacy of whither

My Ideological Inflexibility is as Pure as My Lilly-White My Skin

March 26, 2016

I’m a selfish shit.
I epitomize every horror in the heart
of the straight white male.
I only care about myself.
I do not care about gays,
women, minorities or immigrants.
I couldn’t give a fuck
about any of their rights.
I own a house.
I own a car.
I have what I need
and I get what I want.
Of course, I do not admit
that I am a selfish shit.
It is a face I keep private.
Outwardly, I display the traits
of a good liberal.
I show compassion and kindness
and make a big ostentatious presentation
of how much I care
about workers and the oppressed,
but this is all a lie,
and let me tell you why…
because I have decided I will not vote
for Hillary Clinton in the general election.
I will either stay home
or write in Bernie Sanders.
I am a straight white male.
I am insured.
I own a house.
I own a car.
Trump can do very little to hurt me.
I’m a selfish shit.
I do not care about gays, women,
minorities or immigrants.
I couldn’t give a fuck
about any of their rights.
I’m a selfish fucking piece of shit.

Finally, Bloodless

March 25, 2016

The sweet best
there is in me
that I strive to be
is a damnable horror
duplicitous and delusive
it once was I thought
a goodness – empathy
for men who suffer
women who grieve
all who toil
those whose labors go unrewarded
society’s scuttled, squashed, discarded
toward them
I feel a generosity of spirit
not a day passes
in which I do not weep
at least one tear
one gasping painful cry
for the losers
the disenfranchised and diseased
the impoverished and imprisoned
all the people up against it
all their struggles and despair
this was supposed to be
the best in me – that part of me
that anguishes at their hurt
but now I know otherwise
the sick and injured
are not to be cared for
the poor, homeless and hungry
are to be mocked and scolded
for their failings
both morally and financially
all along in all of this
my compassion for others
was better to be contempt
charity I discovered
is no noble virtue
at best I am told
it enables leeches
and at worst
is no less than slavery
in that it cripples those who receive it
so they become helpless dependents
who take and never contribute
rats in traps
lured by the call of free stuff
I did not know
human kindness
was in fact
monstrous cruelty
I am so happy
to now know better
to have seen the light
as shown to me
by upright followers of Christ
soon, my heart, you will bleed
no more
for no one

Triumph of the Swill

March 24, 2016

Nothing is less inevitable
than an ego-driven madman
seeking to empower himself
through the demonization
and condemnation
of others’ lives
and lifestyles
and nothing is more depressing
than the people
who buy into it
and cheer it on
down the centuries
falling for it
over and again

To Open Slumber’s Vein

March 22, 2016

Blasted from my head and scattered to atoms
by the babbling bilge of others
I am a crumb cake
in their non-silence I dissolve
a chemical dissolution of spirit
tramped and stampled
brilliance snuffed
in dusty licensed mould
no matter how I long
for the licentious shellac
to be descaled and scrapped
so the old hat wit and wisdom
may be polished to a shine pedestrian
the coarse cat tongues of talk
keep the trowel at the wall
plastering on the stucco
over a wire and paper wrapped
garbage brain
more assured of its frail obviousness
than its obscure strengths
too easy it is to get interred
under majority opinion’s weight
a sad state
to avoid it
a cocoon to confuse
death and sleep
until I don’t know
no longer
one from the other
am I tired
or suicidal
discovery has two ways
the pillow and the razor blade

The Imperceptible

March 18, 2016

Between 3-out & 2-out
GenArk Drop-Spoor
in the wake of cataclysmic collision
limited by protocols
chose to discharge its load
in directions flawed and fatal
but felicitously bi-planetary

information of the event
propagated through the pods
but it was meagerly detailed
the ship had struck something
invisible, insensible, indeterminate
yet undoubtedly guided
possessed of agency
a guardian restricting access
still, despite it, humans survived
on two worlds
habitable – one covered in ruins
the other wild and nothing more
divided, alas
by an unbroachable gulf
of both 227 million kilometers
and an
unknowable,
intelligently designed machine

for 801 days
the separated humanities
communicated by primitive
radio and television wave
technology
and then abruptly
it was cut

the disconnected worlds did not know
but both reached identical conclusions
the system’s undetectable protector
discontinued contact
whether malicious or not
it was against them

On the inner planet
the one of vast technological ruins
the people struggled mightily
grappling with the mechanics
of complex machinery
beyond all their combined skills
despite the odds
many ancient devices soon operated:
data storage archives
power generators
construction and repair automatons
what a world
on it they thrived
while further out
across the breach
they died in spirit-crushing numbers
thirst, starvation, bowels gushing gore
hopelessness and rot beset them
until nothing of old ways remained
three bands of hunters and gatherers
irrevocably split
by details of petty politics

As a century passed
the women and men of Astroturf
conducted experiments
and meticulously documented the results
busting the bastard barrier halving humanity
was their goal
they never gave up
it took two-thousand years
and seven civil wars
and still
they never gave up…

The Imperceptible fell
an occultic monster slain
by generations of scientific study
on the day
the ethereal dictator met vanquishment
all the citizens of Astroturf
took off work
for a week long celebration
that’s lasting effect was a notable boom
nine months later
of much wanted babies
attempted resumption of communication
detected that their brethren
while there and while using radio
were speaking in unrecognizable tongues
thus a slight hiccup
conquered by their computers
in a little over a quarter hour
the translations, however
were less than reassuring
they had gone mad
the natives of Terra Incognita
worshipped precisely that
that which the Astroturf-lings
had neutralized
they killed over it
raped, sacrificed and slaughtered in its name
they called it God
aggravatingly and predictably
they called it God
this news was more than a little disconcerting
but it wouldn’t stand in the way
a team of four ambassadors was selected
garbed in what the Astroturf scientists
now jokingly referred to as God-hide
the very stuff that had cloaked
the inter-world sentinel
they’d fought against so long
they would walk among them
observe the Terra-incognitos
unseen and indestructible
and then
decide how best to bring them back
to their lost human-nature
it was decided not to

the horrors of the planet were ceaseless
wilderness razed and burnt
seas a kaleidoscope of swirling
oil-spill colors
extermination camps
holding thousands
herded daily into gas chambers
treaded smoke-belching vehicles
ground fertile fields of abundance
to muddy ruination
the degeneracy was sickening
and they wanted nothing to do with them

On the way home
a diplomatic solution was reached
they reactivated
the Terra-incognito’s deity
and reprogrammed it
to judge its subordinate subjects
in .00235 milliseconds
it did judge them
and it blessed them with the Armageddon
they had fervently prayed for
for all those too long
two-thousand years

As for the folks of Astroturf
this time
they took two full weeks off
from all forms of labor
the baby boom required
additional hospitals be built
and the moratorium on birth control
be lifted

Conk Wet

March 17, 2016

Opioidal scum come
Ask for ice
Bartender he scream
Out rotten cunt
No fuckin’ hospice you
junkie adjust jersey
Try for presentable
Beggar tactic
Pathetic big eye
Pouty lip mouth
Please mr. boss man
Ain’t no love
I told you fuck off
Scabby cracker
And no more bones
Boy he goes
Back onto hard
Toy district street
Place for kiddies
Nope uh-uh screw dat
Harsh man I say cool
Man want ice only
Laughing goes the master
Other drinker inquire
What you s’pose
He want ice fo
Unsure I reply
Hemorrhoids
Ease the heaty hurt
Gray hair alkie
Hoot a wild chuckle
Oh shit no
Say him
You really believe it
I says I do
You green he say
Wet behind ear
Damn addict
Could shoot up
Just using all the liquid
Washing round
‘Hind your conk shell orifices
Ha!
I feel so much stupid
So I do what I do
And I giggle too

Stranger Woe

March 16, 2016

pain vicarious
we upload our tears
fill the shallow sorrow well
of the unknown dead
in our idle Western grief
we are found wanting
mourning loss of stars
craving real feeling
we push it online
into a collection plate
of strange lamentation
to outdo one another
at a game
of proximate sadness
so we might be depleted
of all anguish
that when death strikes
near and dear to heart
already we may be
without care
as cold as the celebrities
in their graves

Useless Jackasses Who Carry No Weight

March 14, 2016

We are told they are dissatisfied
angry at the president
at the very principles of governance
they shriek and jeer and assemble
commit acts of aggravated assault
make vituperative declarations
against the opposition
who they condemn fully
in no uncertain terms
as all that is wrong
not only with the country
but with themselves
their enemies they blame
for their own awful behavior
as if to say
the Jews brought the holocaust
on themselves
black Africans brought slavery
on themselves
like the misbehaved child
brings upon herself
vicious lashings
blow after whipping blow
of the razor’s strop
of the belt’s buckle
of the saw’s singing blade
an excuse of a rapist
the way she smiled
the way she dressed
the way she walked
she made me fuck her
against her will
likewise for the would-be
purity police who seek
to make America
great again
gay marriage, healthcare reform
unionized labor
Muslims, immigrants
feminists and other uppity thugs
and… activist judges
and… government overreach
and… welfare queens
these animals
and their abuses
they make them do it
make them hurl racial epithets
strangle reporters
beat protesters bloody
and eject all undesirables
from their blanched hate-filled rallies
but for all my consideration
that I’ve given them
I cannot understand their rage
violent crime is at an historic
all time low; unemployment and gas prices
also low
we all live at a time
of plentiful food, water, entertainment
our comfort level inconceivable
to those of only a century past
deadly and debilitating diseases
many of them eradicated
penicillin and vaccines extend lives
improve the quality of life
the means to communicate instantly
from nearly anywhere
in our hands
in our pockets and purses
vast reservoirs of knowledge, information
at our beck and keystroke
even the threat of nuclear annihilation
from the heightened cold war terrors
of thirty years ago
has been greatly reduced
yet still they are angry
they hate
they froth at the mouth
sieg heil and fly confederate flags
they’ve never had it so good
and still they cry and whine
and bitch and moan
throwing temper tantrums, hissy fits
and always playing the victim
persecuted straight white Christians
my only hope for them
my wish
is that these sorry fuckers
never
have real pain in their lives
never know what it is
to see their children starve
their fields burn
their cities die
because these pampered, privileged, pusillanimous
putrid pansy piles of puke
would simply curl up in a ball
rocking themselves back and forth
no more hatred to shriek
swallowed whole by grief, sorrow
drowned out by their mournful wails
unaware now of nothing more