April 2012
15 posts
Dogma
It didn’t matter the harboring neighboring tribe’s pitfalls
It grew their houses from seeds sown by black eyes children
Held together by the shit of the men and the tears of the
Woman who won’t rise up and grow a pair
And the dogs slept easy and shallow in stupor of lackadaisical
Effigies burned and worshiped at the stake
Of the territory’s in-devour to reconnoiter...
New York New York
Eclectic and macaronic verbiage set to stop
The men from procreating and getting the whore off
The internet full of cock and heads loped
Off the body of a satanical beast for the loft
Answers no more prayer than street
Or the beatnik set himself to eat
Layers
The craving heart was tony to the gentleman
Of latter day saints investing in a market set to slit
It’s own wrists and hang the poor and grotesque from
Cables pawned off a sleazy tycoon now set to rip the throat
Of sea-lions and kidnap babies after their parents became
Separated in the hurricane
I want the good-natured dead and buried with the
Philanthropist and the feminist
All...
Bullets in Reach of Children
It didn’t matter how loud the baby cried
You can’t shake veins this cold and liquified
Golden guns hang in perfect reach
While the caparison hangs from rafters like a leech
This god won’t think of what it means to live
Unless his world is swolen with a hypodermic sieve
Broken on the backs of those with estute promise
And his compatriot in juxtaposed malice
And a token of...
A Porn Party for Children You Never Knew Of
My cumshaw should burst with excitement
At the slightest touch of the young boys pride
And the clown keeps blowing up dogs to be made into snakes
And all the while the mother takes photographs
To document the child’s first flirt with love as it
Seems he has plain white love covering his cherub iron face
And the children run around the posies
And reek of destiny spilled punch and shit...
Choice
Bright shinny smiles in flowers and bees with pollen
Dangling from their feet in brilliant repose
Lifting every voice of the placid forest to sing of contentment
And a wild kinship found only in the best of heart
Goldened by the sun and reinforced by
The brilience of Gods almighty touch
Or
The vagina with pompous serrated teeth set to rip apart cock
And feed it...
Death Row
Is Poe’s raven the berror of news
Or an apotropaic diminishing factor of fervor and favor
in the open heart of the willing
Could death row truly be a trial
For the man who can’t have a life now knows why
Never has to accept the unknown
And can let the raven pick at his heart long before
Its voice tares a spirit to shreds
Daddy Issues
Evil transmissions over telepathic fatherly instinct
Tie a pleached noose over a border
Of needles the foot can’t escape
But hand may not remove
Looks could really kill
If anger was taken with poison
But then looks never truly speek more
Than what minds want them to
Can the Lame Lead
The gross misconduct of the outward flowing pen
And the inhale of toxic streaking lights on the highway
The cockroach knee deep in the obtuse fumbling
Detriment hanging by a rope in the midst of a nirvana episode
As the abashed single minded whore feels the phallic
Of defeat in her bedrooms heat
I don’t care what the poets spew
Only the the mute’s pen can do
All the work that...
If You Needed Another Reason to Kill
Purge the scourge and chain the masses
Keep your phallic guns open to the idea of the bullet
Want need
Get speed
Fuck your words for they have only been mine
The pyramids should be set down for past time has came
Its no long the word the matters but the speeker’s lie
And the listener’s truth
It will all end
And the fuck-ups are set to inherit the after life
They so wretchedly...
Camera Country
Floating ships on the callouses of guns and sweeping
Flags who sheltered the fag’s kind breast from a praying
Cameras built this country
Because flashes make truth easier for the languished
To recognize the mirror they create
Ginsburg Would Cry
The Boon of industry could give your soulless merchants
Good pause as to derive the water’s miss direct
Who might erect accidental fortified clones
Of starch and vapid briefcase wielding agents of the
Dynamo dead men were keen to talk of
An indifferent revolution of poignant I
Pestilence thrown up on the internet
To keep a Conscious clean with conspiracy
And elixirs due to choke the...
Kids
Pyknic heroin Addicts with frosting on the tips of nose
A grouse Stockbroker with towels set to put fires out
Now dream of starting them
A zeitgeber Caller with abortions on the brain and time
That should have been had on plastic oversized teliphones
In caustic harmful dream worlds of stimulating plastic
The Sylph anerexic with a heart of gold and a stomach of
Undeniable...
The Disease
I let cancer patients serve me the heads of Africans
On platters reminiscent of silver and serpents keeping
Venom in my glass For ever an always
The cancerous wretch languishes in the spoils of war
Relieved of theirs copious asphyxiations
As I drink their bitter lucimia out of my crystal glass
Feast for the Senseless
Laboring around the unemployment pantry
Looking for the remaining morsels of morals
And the juxtaposed battering rams of a dieing industry
And human raccoons
Sipping of their child’s adoribility through a straw
And into their gapeing mandables
The sour stench of rotting dreams and bedroom addiction
Coughing and welting orges
Strapped down pens with harboring satisfaction in...
