From crack to whiskey and from whiskey to crack
From the poor shall everything be
Taken, even the little that they have
From crack to whiskey and from whiskey to crack
Friday, December 28, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Blue Days in Paris
We were living in Paris like a regular 19th Century couple.
I'm a brat with a tuba and you're my
phantasmal masseuse!
Blue days in Paris!
Brutal runts and homuncular runes on the Champs-Élysées!
Cellophane opalescence of the cigarette-cafés and the
sauce-pan sarcasm of American super-moms!
I'm your euphonic copycat!
You're my astral recluse!
Bop-nabobs in the Metro and bombs in the suburbs!
Monumental ennui and the blood of unicorns!
Blue days in Paris!
I'm a brat with a tuba and you're my
phantasmal masseuse!
Blue days in Paris!
Brutal runts and homuncular runes on the Champs-Élysées!
Cellophane opalescence of the cigarette-cafés and the
sauce-pan sarcasm of American super-moms!
I'm your euphonic copycat!
You're my astral recluse!
Bop-nabobs in the Metro and bombs in the suburbs!
Monumental ennui and the blood of unicorns!
Blue days in Paris!
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Retarded Poet
I held her throat all night.
No bruises.
Stars were singing all night
in a violet ring
with a little pink microphone.
There was bad news from Mars
roses freezing in carbon dioxide
Bad news under my brain
bare nerves reaching for anything
like a lizard's fingers
at the top of her spine
where a lizard was thinking.
No bruises.
Stars were singing all night
in a violet ring
with a little pink microphone.
There was bad news from Mars
roses freezing in carbon dioxide
Bad news under my brain
bare nerves reaching for anything
like a lizard's fingers
at the top of her spine
where a lizard was thinking.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Rose-Atropine
Chicken running around in the yard
with its head cut off
nightmare running around
in another nightmare
head still rolling its eyes
pinhole stars on the back of my eyelids
It's a very small world
farmyard full of bright stars
lilac iris rose atropine...
Rainbow-fountains converge
behind the constellations.
with its head cut off
nightmare running around
in another nightmare
head still rolling its eyes
pinhole stars on the back of my eyelids
It's a very small world
farmyard full of bright stars
lilac iris rose atropine...
Rainbow-fountains converge
behind the constellations.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Fuck-World
Have you heard the bad news, mother-fuckers?
I heard it from an oven-bird!
Have you heard the bad news, mother-fuckers?
I read it on the moon!
Have you heard the bad news, mother-fuckers?
It's a fire that eats everything!
Every word is a curse!
Every word is a curse!
Every word is a curse, mother-fuckers!
Every word is a curse in your fuck-world!
I heard it from an oven-bird!
I read it on the moon!
Friday, November 16, 2012
Exotic Animals
Have you ever killed a cat?
Don't act like you couldn't do it!
I loved my gnu and you ate its aorta!
Have you ever killed a cat?
Your mommy is a nematode!
You're old and ugly!
All you really want to do is
diddle your ungodly gonads!
Have you ever killed a cat?
Don't act like you couldn't do it!
I loved my gnu and you ate its aorta!
Have you ever killed a cat?
Your mommy is a nematode!
You're old and ugly!
All you really want to do is
diddle your ungodly gonads!
Have you ever killed a cat?
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Princess
Anorexic
princess
undresses
at Hollywood and Vine
and so what if sardines eat her wallet?
She and I are alone in the nacreous twilight!
princess
undresses
at Hollywood and Vine
and so what if sardines eat her wallet?
She and I are alone in the nacreous twilight!
Saturday, November 10, 2012
In the Age of Dinosaurs
Way back then everything was a lot less heavy,
and a real brontosaurus could bounce around as lightly
as my son's inflatable brontosaurus in the bathtub.
Sometimes I climb down
to the bottom of the toy-box and eat
dinosaur meat in the age of dinosaurs
It's exactly like eating a cloud.
and a real brontosaurus could bounce around as lightly
as my son's inflatable brontosaurus in the bathtub.
Sometimes I climb down
to the bottom of the toy-box and eat
dinosaur meat in the age of dinosaurs
It's exactly like eating a cloud.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Bingo
Do you live in your car?
Do you live in your toaster?
Bingo!
Everybody is a star!
We own the arcade, and
all of us are
face to face and crazy to crazy
on the bingo stages.
Do you live in your toaster?
Bingo!
Everybody is a star!
We own the arcade, and
all of us are
face to face and crazy to crazy
on the bingo stages.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Earthquake
Head-bone connected to the hip-bone!
Hip-bone connected to the moon!
Is this a hoax?
Am I your axel?
Is it time to die?
Do re mi fa so la ti do!
Why am I still singing?
Hip-bone connected to the moon!
Is this a hoax?
Am I your axel?
Is it time to die?
Do re mi fa so la ti do!
Why am I still singing?
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Drone
I fuck with everything!
Nothing fucks with me!
I fuck like a drone.
Thrill-kill all of your hillbilly women-folk, Abdullah!
Yodel-ay-hee yodel-ay-hee yodel-oo!
Thrill-kill all of your hillbilly women-folk, Abdullah!
Yodel-oo-hoo yodel-oo-hoo yodel-ay!
I fuck like a drone.
Nothing fucks with me!
I fuck like a drone.
Thrill-kill all of your hillbilly women-folk, Abdullah!
Yodel-ay-hee yodel-ay-hee yodel-oo!
Thrill-kill all of your hillbilly women-folk, Abdullah!
Yodel-oo-hoo yodel-oo-hoo yodel-ay!
I fuck like a drone.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Jack Sprat
I forget everything you remember.
I remember everything you forget.
Are you more like trans-gender
or more like trans-fat?
Are you more like a garden
or more like a hat?
I forget everything you remember.
I remember everything you forget.
I remember everything you forget.
Are you more like trans-gender
or more like trans-fat?
Are you more like a garden
or more like a hat?
I forget everything you remember.
I remember everything you forget.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Meep
I pollute the intuited tulip.
You devolve to a root.
Did a bean or a beer-nut undream us?
Meep is peeping at me in my sleep!
Friday, October 12, 2012
Igloo
Our cosmos wheezes and alliterates.
My groove is trivialized.
Alfred North Whitehead ate my love-muscle.
My igloo is alive.
My groove is trivialized.
Alfred North Whitehead ate my love-muscle.
My igloo is alive.
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