It should surprise no one
that the bar for qualifying as an intelligent person is pretty low in
America. Do you have a
lifepreserver? Because yr French fries
are drowning in ketchup, especially in our glurge factory. Let’s just say not
many women can put up with the way I live—the motorcycles, the synthesizers,
the foundrytown night lamps and guns moveable in their master-nativities. Yet
the most alarming aspect is every clip art or guncase must be unsnapped like a
fish and cleaned until it smiles grenades into the headlamped road of simple
dusk. To cave to the big GOP money and shackle himself to the anchor who can
sleep?—for I wouldn’t hurt you with Paul Ryan, with pigs, with the repeated
references to his new partner's considerable intellectual gifts. Given that we
now live in a world in which shows about Honey Boo Boo and
married couples with 19 children are on something with the gall to call itself
"The Learning Channel", it makes sense that
LET’S BLEED PIG!
WHUR R U PIG??
I WANT UR EYES PIG!
YOU WON’T DO IT PIG!
EVEN I HAVE RIGHTS DON’T I
PIG!
THE COURT IS CIVILIZED, ISN’T
IT PIG????
But I’m not. This is where the law stops, and I
start. The darkness
can embrace, biblically,
the light but never eclipse it. After
this is all done, snapped
up, like loose shoes on a
dragonfly buzzing in front of a steroided frog,
our boogers will cry out
drowning under the bright
morning like vacant pillows.
Justice will be soft-served
to all the cheap coneheads.
Justice will be soft-served
to all the cheap coneheads.
Further upstate, the alarms
sound
that you neither never
liked her
but an army is coming
to shoot out hotel windows
in their pantyhose.
But it is a Book of
Revelations-level warning sign of the misguided Moderation Worship.
In a dark room of
motorcourt
Crossroads they clank their
Ketchups like weapons
together.
I chicken sawed off over
& under
Like a hot dog stand among
the bobbleheads
of the Beltway media.
Nobody asked you money—
Who’s there?
Joe Piscopo
Who?
Jimmy Hoffa
Who?
Lorena Bobbitt
The city looks like a raw
dog Gonzalez
But it has a nice hat and a
clean shirt
It’s guns are loaded with
sidewinding
Hollow sounds of reflective
shades
You’re my fellow
garbage-belly
The zombie squad is the
bottom line
Bobbleheads are the hot
item
Raw Dog Gonzalez talks too
much
Dontcha think…
that in their desperation
to say something good about the cargo cult of nihilists that is the modern GOP,
they have decided that Paul Ryan is a deeply intellectual man of ideas and
principles – a leading thinker of his day…
From ugly men
Safety in a hospital
corridor
The magic word is please
Don’t use please
True, we don’t yet know
What’s inside Cheyenne
mountain
Or what an apple is,
But you don’t like health
food and headquarters didn’t do.
Burp driving gloves.
Fart stop signs and Fords.
Sicken like architecture
and sunglasses.
Chicken like a hot dog
stand.
Crime is a disease. Cobra is the cure.
A stray dog.
Zines that you hafta pay
for are 2 much
Like Sly Stallone movies—yr
low aspirations on display,
A raw dog is a yellow hat
in a red red room
In which a kid eats a
garbaged cheez sandwich
Behind some old oil drums.
138 hrs/wk is not enuf for me to write
because 30 hrs/wk is 2 much 2 hafta work
Every stupid word I say is another deposit
in the pain bank boo hoo hoo hoo hoo
138 hrs/wk is not enuf for me to write
because 30 hrs/wk is 2 much 2 hafta work
Every stupid word I say is another deposit
in the pain bank boo hoo hoo hoo hoo
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