Monday, November 30, 2009

Escape from DC

Feeling bowdy?
You should know this club's bouncers are bigger than GigaBowser
will punch you out of your trousers
across the saloon
catering through the air
like a cartoon
landed on the opposite side of the room
shaken like a howitzer hit yer wits out yer head
lost your pretense of senses when knuckles went boom
how it'd feel is unreally horrible
you'd drool like a baby adorable
see little birdies in a circle
walking nerdy as Erkel
talking suspended by bitten tongue
it's good fine ale makes gals act young
like Gale who giggles though she's a mum
at your inventive inebriated invectives
we need to get the heck out of here
before someone shouts back
I'll pick up the slack
put your arm across my shoulders
the crowd is our first hurdle
if Tajicks don't respect us Kurds'll
doesn't the cold coming through the door feel nice?
don't stumble off I won't tell you twice
now we're out sit down let the beer wear off
your dance was less grind and more Baryshnikov.

Pignorant

Pale prince in a purchased palace
do you fear the nearing bands of brigands?
They roam by your home
and loom at your doom.
Women flee the streets,
shoppers drop their wares,
the armored wall guards tremble,
such savages sow terror,
the garrison rumbles from footsteps,
thousands obscure the sandy dunes,
you've left your people in a monsoon,
like an ill-planning buffoon.
By the river did flourish your harem
now foreign men see women and take them.
Icy cold is your stomach,
wet and warm on fingertips.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Turkey-Tired

I'm thankful for forgetfulness.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Burnt Bacon

Each girl's face is an arrow that points towards yours
its' point punctures my wards
and I tear out cupid's curse
though it makes the wound worse
gaping open as spread legs
fertile as fermented eggs
porcelain decorations
Russian pewters
the extravagance
past tense
sensed so strong the one I long for
may as well be before me
her presence is a smoke
soot undone my lungs
wheezing like a wise man
ceasing his advice
to turn survivors from vice
lest the dying living be the damned
condemned by warning from terminal man
at this terminus bright light's my guide
guys and gals pay to ride
the river Styx and those who've drunk forget
the weighty baggage of self
our first desire a corruption
even a loving core who'd see man soar
with virtue proud, great deeds his shroud
the proclamation becomes loud
in song and tale
from far and wide
in home and vale
we're at his side
imagining what adventures we'd strike
out on if we left our homes
and how we'd like
stories of our own
but warriors gain tolerance to violence
'til they don't flinch at families mashed together
in simmering pyre-piles of bloody excrement
where their tender hearts went I know
to lovely lady wisdom
who makes boys into men
takes innocence
transforms men to heroes
and those unaffected serve traders in her good
here goes my attempt to keep
the hope she hasn't reaped
to preside as a Pope
jealous-vigilant over his herd
mistrustful of every stranger's word
against the incursion
of another incision
removing liaisons
from imaginationland
known to some as heaven
which sends emotional helium
to lighten the weary woes of years
gnosis puts a tariff on relief transports
were we calmed by hypnosis
we'd want for nothing
but desiring something
gives us suffering
we'd all be fufilled
as the surfer seeking a perfect wave
who can conceive of a better ride
after every straddled tide
by speech we think him addled
his skull a hollow rattle
but he got that from pot
and though he speaks stupid alot
atleast he doesn't rant.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Electrical Malfunction

I love to cook
and hear the gas hiss
then have a look
at the blue flames.

As a little kid
a thing I did
was to light leaves on fire
with a magnifier.

When a tween
caught between
boy and teen
I burned our yard.

At pubescence
I felt my essence
was hot so I bought
firecrackers, grill-fuel and lighters.

In college I learned
how to burn
the frosh dorm
and freeze titties.

With my wife
I got insurance
not for life
but our houses.

White in my hair
I grinned to see
the forest had caught
my gift to a tree.

When very old
I shed a tear
when they blow
mere cake candles.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Mountaintip Mining

I want to trim my emotional resonance of its' top
so the lows would stop
feeling so deep
yet I wake
at the sound of blasting
to a new view and veins to burn
at last the price in pain to take isn't steep.