Dust Rescind

 

Imagine

death is

gonna

be

like a

well-staged

play,

as life is

an unrehearsed

funeral.

Dread the

unthinkable

thirteen-foot

tapeworm

inside

and

out.

Oye vey,

oye vey,

the rabbi say.

 

Help

 

It’s

my truth

but it’s not

necessarily

reality;

masturbation

is making

me blind!

 

Poetic Genius Hole

 

Poems come

to me

almost as often

as hearty, deep,

throaty, under-

wear billowing,

flammable,

gaseous, methane,

farts thud machine-

gun rat-a-tat-tat

outta my

open gaping

dingleberry-wreathed

asshole…whole.

 

Go! Trump Go!

 

Writing poetry

classics

is easy if you

don’t know

what you’re doing.

Just like being

President.

 

War

 

I remember

the day

not least

adumbrated

liberated

ingratiated

in pieces

shoot

it was bad;

heart, spleen,

stomach, lung,

splattered

chest shot

machine-gunned

during war,

what is it good for?

Ask anyone nowadays

and

they’ll tell you;

absolutely nothing!

 

Coiffed Crown Confusion (Crystal Blue Persuasion)

 

I can’t wait

to

die

and

reincarnate

as a guy with hair.

 

The Fleeting Now

 

We may find

the point in

space

but not in

time,

I imagine.

But someday

mathematics will

allow us to reach

a non-present now

outside the mind

Where was x

throughout history?

And where shall it be

in future?

 

Escape!

 

Float mystic wings

into the silence

of a noisy yawn.

 

Life

 

is a picked grape

wilting,

wrinkling into

a raisin

dangling

into mouths

hungry

for existence.

Long live

and bless

those able

to resist it’s

charms

its pains

its heights

of joy

despair

or perhaps

grant them

an early death

the shining darkness

from where peace

triggers the heart

from yesteryear

and before

to lay flat upon

the unburdened

plane and echo

mysteries of

coming surfeit.