Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

Dances with News

December 8, 2017

Puerto Rico starves and meanwhile
Dancing with the Stars
Kim Jong Un tests nukes and meanwhile
Dancing with the Stars
California burns and meanwhile
Dancing with the Stars
Barbarians within the gates and meanwhile
Dancing with the Stars
Media silence, media noise
Medusa vision, Medusa stone
silence is death
noise is fret
vision is none
stone is end
dance on dead
dance on dead

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Home to Roost in the White House

December 6, 2017

Today’s rapists
face a new kind of challenge
too many women
have determined
that rape
is not their guilt, their shame
but rather
that of the rapist
it is a difficult climate in which
today’s rapists operate
always under threat
that their victims
could speak up
and externalize the blame
instead of quietly
internalizing the degradation
until it distills
as concentrated self-loathing
exploding in destructive behavior
slamming doors
on opportunity and growth
those days are over
and today’s rapists
must all be aware and beware
the blame and guilt and consequences
are more likely than ever
to come home to their door…

or, who knows
the fucking pig might just be elected president

Blargle Bilge

December 1, 2017

klakamite feelabore
indestry befoamed
hind-driven watt-ward
grotesquely untoward
hoola maven sundowned
up to the klak behind
on under kneeth declined
by wavery wenches signed
garbled in hoops wired
unsurprised, disaware
radioactively disinclined
unprotested riot pot
kettle molded on the head
shuttered umper alley cost
best up unreleased
bitter comic holocaust
can’t erase trepiduration
four many years too gone
ultra-rare bonus track
humpeously bad last song
sung to a grabbly puss
retracted in the dawn
shine never to dismember
momma by the dying light
as sexuality rapes a pawn
to advance the queen
against the dream
of a bigger more grand patriarchy
finally in excellency sacrifice
the man protected
accusation tossers lost
to the megaton nuke king boss
kim jong ill in the head
kim jong undo the end
kim jong donald trump
kim jong garbage dump

Birth of a Nation of Evil

November 25, 2017

Names of humans
haven’t enough ferocity
for attachment
to the increasing fury
of the world’s tropical storms
and
call them what you will
typhoon, hurricane, cyclone
Jose, Irene, Ophelia
a weak roll call
for a devastating wind-whipped deluge
works of art do better apply
For Whom the Bell Tolls
Dawn of the Dead
The Scream
especially suitable all
in the new USA
where victims get the blame
for being in the way
and survivors are urged
at governmental behest
to fuck off and die

Morontological Mystery

November 16, 2017

A black comedian
beloved by millions
turns out
he’s a rapist
it’s big news
lawsuits ensue

A Hollywood producer
who most of the nation
hadn’t heard of
until the accusations
turns out
he’s a rapist
it’s big news
lawsuits ensue

A real-estate mogul
turned
reality TV show host
turns out
he’s a rapist
it’s big news
lawsuits die on the wind
that blows across the country
wafting him into the presidency
so he may rape us all
with absolute impunity
total legal immunity
and unprecedented (by a president) stupidity

Baseball Cap Tiara

November 13, 2017

Semiotics of poverty
worn by the wealthy
self-adorned signals
issued desperately to connect
in contempt to the underlings
plaid flannel for the garden
one-thousand-three-hundred-eighty dollars
even the dress-down
must be beyond
the peasant’s financial call
except the red ball caps
to be taken up
by one and all
in allegiance, in tribute, in salute
a less repellent sign
than the stiff arm raised high
the symbols of impoverishment
become indicators of shared hatred
and thus a billionaire
and the working poor
are united

Disaware

November 9, 2017

I’m aware
This is not what I want
I want distractions
Alcohol, amusement
Any diversion
I want to be disaware
With my beer, my streaming tv
No longer can I suffer knowledge
Information, the steady stream
That over internet flows
Comes into my Pocket
Seeds of horror planted in my phone
To be emptied
Drained of news, of politics
The endless, relentless
Shovelling of shit
To what we’re subjected
Piled under, crippled in the face of it
And abandoned
Squawking infants, naked
Cries that beg for death
For release from the nonsense
Of lives
And then the question
Is it backwards
Drugs and entertainment
Or
Outrage and political tweets
Which is the distraction
Which the main attraction
Are both each
Could one be the other
How fucked am I
When I’ve nowhere to hide

Bud Light

November 1, 2017

flapping flags on a line
small square banners dangle
like loin cloths on laundry day
each one a symbol of a caveman
unclothed and cold
wrinkled prick
withdrawing into his body
shamefully exposed
on the acreage (one point three two)
masculinity seen true
whether a bear, a viking
a redskin, a bill
packer, colt, steeler, jet or
an official beer sponsor
of the national football league
it’s all scant cover for disappointment

Any 11 for a Penny

October 30, 2017

O, to astral project the mind
to hear the music again
for the first time
young hands sliding in the tape
pressing the little door back in
cassette ready
pushing play
cogs turning
inexorably reeling in the music
from wheel to wheel it winds
anticipation in the hiss
all being focused
on the moment
as future rolls past
winding up, winding up
and the pitch
and the sound
and the song begins
never to be new no more
only rewound
in memory…

and physically too
obviously I didn’t throw the tape away
after only one play
but that wasn’t
the point
here being made
or was it
doesn’t matter
I’ll just listen
on Youtube

Service to the World

October 18, 2017

Here’s the thought…

put down the drink
that’s the hardest part
push back off the bar
hands pressed into black cushion
stool legs twisting on red carpet
stand
walk away
out the double front door onto the veranda
breathe in the exhaust scented air
deep, really fill the lungs
remain determined
slam outward through the gate
wait for it
see the bus coming
rushing to make the light
as it barrels across the intersection
step into the street
listen to the sound, to the screech
and calculate
if indeed the driver
truly did care to stop
or knew
she was doing the world a service