Posts Tagged ‘murder’

Who Wants to Die for Art?

June 10, 2017

Your murder on a holiday
will make your death more newsworthy
than the page three blurb
it otherwise would have been
be thankful your killer
had the good sense
to shoot you in the face
both with a gun and a camera
the footage of which
he posted to social media
not many are so fortunate
as to have their violent end
brought to national attention
by such a consummate
man of show business
his eye to sensationalistic detail
the unhinged rant, the random act
triggered by a break-up
by money problems
all confessed concisely
“I cracked,” he said
he cracked, luckily, on you
the family you leave behind
children, a spouse
biological accomplishment
increases your murder’s importance
elevating a mere atrocity
to art… to drama… to tragedy
in your demise you soar
high above the mundane
on Easter, a day of celebrated resurrection
you shine
a newly born star
for a little while


Hashtag Race Relations

September 15, 2014

a proud white halo glows saintly
encircling the shooter’s head
pure and right
the vanquished devil at his feet
face down, dispatched
unholy ghoul ridded from the Earth
dead forever as is just…
a scenario as true to 1814
as it is to 2014
why fuck with over 200 years of tradition
let sleeping dead nigger dogs lie
or charge like bulls
high on marijuana stolen cigarillos
any reason to pull the trigger
give it and the murder is done
acquitted, forgiven and absolved
goodbye to bad black rubbish
a peace sign’s a gang sign
a playful rap’s a manifesto
a thug is a thug is a dog whistle
no cop ever had no cause to fire
fear for his safety
that’s it boy
the light is scared of the dark
scared for his life
scared to death
beat that, you can’t
you cunt
riot at will
that’s where we’ve pushed you
that’s what we want
that’ll help
and then we kill


January 13, 2013

Not on a lawn, non-residential
in one of those industrial waste zones
every city of a certain size achieves
fire ants stumble over unevenly strewn gravel
radiating out from their home mound –
normally, steps are taken to eradicate the pest,
but in places like this…
from an abandoned crane
painted in a chromatic cacophony of tags
hung a ruined body by its feet
hands palms up on the grey earth
ants crawling finger hills and valleys
as indifferent to it as any other debris
the body has a head like a giant raspberry
inflamed knots of red swollen meat
engulfing all signs of features
every trace of hair
so engorged and ripe it might
in another land
entice a male baboon to fuck it,
but not here, lonely in desolation,
waiting still to be discovered, oddly
the raspberry appears to have a stem
jutting thickly from its apex
pointing down at a slight angle to the ground
where at the end of it rests, on the north side of the mound,
in a tricolored heap of red, white and green,
a foreign flag, an eagle eating a snake
the ants, again, pay no heed to the flag
it is of no concern, warrants no alarm
ants are not patriotic, do not know loyalty to nations,
are rarely, if ever, stopped at borders,
but have been known to engage
and to be deployed in warfare
as these troopers of anthill 64 are well aware
when the boy was hung above,
stick attached,
the lad struggled valiantly, but eventually
stomach muscles give out
he died knowing his abs weren’t what they could be,
but whose are? …
and before the assailants left the scene
they were sure to hack the colony
jabbing and smacking at it
with a snapped, otherwise useless,
length of rebar, and when the colors
of their neighbors to the south draped across
their disturbed riot
they run up the flagpole and salute the screaming face
in a raucous frenzy of bites and stings,
and then, abdominals flex
up rises the bandera
prickly pear aflutter, but this anguished exercise
peters out, exhaustion
all ants are expected to do their duty for their queen
and in perfect fealty
do it they do
so much like us