Tuesday, December 20, 2011

page 42

took a five gallon can of gasoline and burned down his shack they were going to put it in the Smithsonian and we just couldn’t stand for that a mysterious journey I knocked on his door at the 4th street slums Captain Marc spent long hours with AC discussing how to get rid of Mr. Perry AC was convinced that Mr. Perry was up to no good  I wrote a letter to Gie in prison explaining to him all of this the Mayan codices we see the lizard man on the nightly news he is telling us to look for the spacemen jabbing the needle into his arm Gie wrties back a month later and says he has found the spaceman it is the rise of rational thought and the creation of the iron cage Jane is going around counting all the workers in the field we are pulling up parsnips and carrots Jane keeps telling us to circle the wagons most people pay her no attention crazy is as crazy does and Jane has a full dose of crazy Mr. Perry asks Jane to marry him even though he has been married for 25 years he can’t help but fall in love with the crazy Jane helps patch up Mr. Perry’s wounds from his battle with Captain Marc and bertha she sings to him as she winds the cloth around his wounds she tells him that you don’t have to spend too much time in the pews to understand that Mr. Perry can’t fight worth a fuck she tells him that he is going to have to learn how to fight if he wants to be president Jane begins to teach him his first fighting lesson she teaches him how to kick somebody in the nuts how to poke someone’s eye out and how to knee someone in the face she tells him these are the first vital lessons that Abraham Lincoln learned when he first went into politics Mr. Perry looks like a bloody mess Jane has whipped his ass real good this was the beginning of Mr. Perry’s and Jane’s love affair tim asks Mr. Perry if he loves him and Mr. Perry says yes then tim tells Mr. Perry to kill AC Mr. Perry says he will try Mr. Perry wants to stick his dick in tim so he will do anything tim says Mr. Crowley is working on a new bible one that is all about AC and a new millennium he writes stories about the end of time when all the bank will go bankrupt and the people will take to the streets killing all the politicians and all of the priests Mr. Crowley believes in the power of words he thinks that his words will bring about a new world order a world without tim a world where AC rules everything Mr Crowley talks about the itch of the world the scars of chew toys and Hollywood entertainment he says that the world is a tiger escaped from its cage he would run but his legs have been sawed off in the last banking war he is a veteran of many psychic wars and is lucky to be here today to tell us about it he has had his fill of nothing and it is just that he is telling us about how the nothing can capture your soul and send you across the country in search of the perfect hole a hole you can climb inot and forget the world he wants to beg for the blind eye and to crawl in the squalor of the real truth he has used his extra consciousness many times and is not afraid to set the record straight if he has to his benefits are in a small plastic bag made from biodegradable plastic it like him will fade away into the sunset the truck is coming to collect his bones and bury him with rin tin tin they are both Hollywood stars and have a star on the walk of fame he has been dodging the bullets of the government for so long that he knows how to bend over backwards he knows the problem and the problem is capitalism the monster of corporate greed doesn’t care about your biographies the

Monday, December 19, 2011

page 41

industry Gie where is your revolution and your trickle down political distribution the antichrist is still in his office he flicks his lamp on and off to send secret messages to his followers bertha my love where are you did you sell your soul to the goat for a piece of gold around your finger would you shake your ass for me again just like in the olden days I bet we could put Captain Marc’s wooden leg all the way up there we would all go find Tim and drink a few beers Tim would tell us of his days when he used to be a professional football player this was before he got into the god business he said being a god pays much better than the nfl he only wishes he could get more pussy I told tim that bertha was always good for a bounce or two Captain Marc untied bertha’s restraints and we watch Tim put his holy spirit into her when he was done he sat and licked his fingers in walks Mr. Perry and he kicks Captain Marc’s dog Mr. Perry and Captain Marc begin to fight and roll all over the floor bertha picks up the wooden leg and beats Mr. Perry over the head some people are broken and they never can be fixed sending a shudder through me harder than ever hanging like dark clouds the sky is full of nooses Tim and AC make a bet concerning bertha’s soul Tim thinks he can save bertha show her the way to redemption AC is always skeptical of tim’s optimism AC knows that things don’t always work out the way we have planned reading a tome of the exploits of frozen blue she says that you don’t have to do it twice once is always enough if it is done right Tim will believe in anything if it is packaged right it has to be sold to him in a certain way you have to appeal to his weaker side play on his human weaknesses the things that make us all stumble for example if you tell him that everyone is buying it then you can sign him up he will take twelve that is how I sold him my forged copy of the Guttenberg bible and he wrote the damn thing yes it is all in the packaging you can sell him a piece of shit if it is pretty enough it floats to the surface and his soul is captured at least for a moment selling him a glimpse at a greater shadow normally Tim was not interested in shadows he normally avoided then it was AC who was interested in shadows in fact AC counted several of them as his closest friends if anyone can be close with AC yet Tim would be interested in a shadow if the sun was aligned just right in the sky and on only certain days when the influence of the sun was at its weakest then tim could be persuaded to imbibe in the diabolical it was then that I could convince him that his fate was about to change he was about to step up to the plate and swing for destiny and everything was about to change for the good or the bad who knows certainly not tim and AC maybe bertha knew and most probably Captain Marc knew he knew lots of things that no one else knew or could even understand we are beginning to forget you the room truck was sleeping I awoke with a big headache bathroom towels she rubbed her eyes paradise rides evening streets we proceed with a terrible face she ran across the street screaming to get in line for the quiz show an old man’s dirt road sweetness arrived at the house around eight in the morning haunted and flabbergasted tim told scary mary to believe to get down from his roof and stop lying to the na├»ve over the internet he asked scary how he wanted to be remembered as he wrote his obituary for the papers scary saw the light and repented for his sins we

Thursday, December 15, 2011

page 39

as you sit upon your throne Hugo put his dick back into his pants and stopped talking to himself the car spinning down the highway out of control Hugo has a resplendent smile upon his face it is like he is frozen in time dear reader can you understand me it used to badass now it looks like some dipshit fucked it up and back on the medication again causing my hair to fall out in big fucking clumps I don’t care I will buy a wig or a big fucking hat she threw me a handful of drugs and said happy holidays trying to stay away from people who are bad for me all those psycho bitches I’m trying to understand it was irregular an outright punch she ached for two or three days she gave me back my clothes and that was nice going off to hit someone else not dealing with it again I am awesome and you guys suck I am fucking awesome beside that everything is peachy doing just fucking dandy chilling with old friends the roof is on fire can you lend me a bucket of water burning all those motherfuckers this is about my own experience my own life that is messed up she drank all my alcohol and she got upset everybody got upset and she felt so guilty too fucking afraid to get on board and she purged like an emo fucker all the wine she drank and the bits of the cat woman she doesn’t know what is going on around her it is all fucking kicking in half a fucking donut and some gravy train biscuits she will get over it and back to normal eventually to quit feeling this way dear children it is not fucking good I have a black eye and bruises all over beating the fuck out of myself last night beware of the shadow she is trying her best she has her flaws abusing herself this is better than real life it is so easy to make friends her mom is exercising upstairs her nympho mother eating crackers and applesauce my favorite fuck buddy she wants me to fuck her standing up while she flaps her wings and clucks like a chicken she is reading to me the broom of the system she thinks of herself as another Lenore Beadsman words are her reality I am building a forest in her backyard panting maples and evergreens the trees help her hide from god I’m still wearing my Christmas shoes we were living in sin among the Algonquin Indians I am traveling with my shotgun there is no flesh and blood there it is just a screen a two dimensional object I never encouraged the dimensionally challenged actually touching each other in the three dimensional world sexual desires one day she blurted it out that I was selfish I couldn’t relinquish the reins I wanted to control the wagon directing the horses she just wanted someone to sleep on the couch someone to be in the next room she was sincere with her razor blades it was heartbreaking as she milked the disappointment and the technology for communicating the problem was that we weren’t communicating it was only a monologue one person speaks and the other one listens there is never a conversation only a one-side monologue it is not going to happen I can remember my girlfriend a vague picture of her face pops up but I can’t think of her name I remember she was a dance instructor she would lay in bed eating cheetahs I wonder where she keeps her tail eating all the cashews eight ounces a state of the art killing machine smart and mean talking to a good mean person a real story stomping them to death on stage as the people clapped and no one voted the government agent has stopped all transmitions they don’t believe in the words and the

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

page 38

the skin is of no significance cut out my eyes it is just the truth we are born into this hell our freedom was a prison of the flesh I am a man who was a baby once I have knowledge of myself we all thinking one way everything will be cool everything will be peace and love the taming of the lion I like it when it gets right it is like going to heaven in front of our people it was like a guest being independent it is strength that you can only know through experience I am searching for my people it is very necessary bringing you the life she owns the night tooth and claw I have come to use the saw upon your bones and to hoist your severed body up in the tree I will wrap you in Christmas lights and let you sparkle you always had such an electric personality even among the bums and dishwater blondes bumming another cigarette from a yuppie stranger another star gazer ready to join the unemployment line soundscapes and singularities they all get in line up against the wall ambient eyes comparing your methods to Paris Shetland if you are good you might get lucky get a radical name like dinky dinky and hone your battle skills get all dope on the techniques and the frequency distributions rent a public studio and make a demo tape throw down the lines one after a time when the odds are stacked against you invest in some rock and a glass pipe make friends with a brillo pad and the rest can be history as you sponsor a peewee football league someday you can watch your children playing for the Oregon trail micro and macro economics asking me how to become a vampire I told you to keep watching dancing with the stars sonny what happened to your penis now you are a soft kitty Hugo is trying to write with his dick he has written with his soul his mind and his spirit he has even written with his guts but he has never written from his dick he wonders what would his dick write if he gave it half a chance Hugo pulls his dick out and asks it what would you write you bastard why don’t you write speak to me tell me what you are thinking what are your desires you are a part of me yet we are really strangers to each other would you write about murder about killing the whole world or would you write of love of dreams that you never achieved of lost love your silence is a betrayal as nasty as any criminal could imagine is that what you are a criminal a filthy rotten criminal do you silently plot to destroy me to stab me in my back when I am sleeping you stare at me with one beady eye almost mocking me yes that is it you are a criminal a sneak thief a murderer you gladly sold your soul to the chief of this world didn’t you I know that you are a great deceiver a bringer of harm and destruction I think you do write when I am asleep you stand up and look around plotting the world’s destruction you write your plans out and send them to your comrades in murder the evil spirits take your notes to the four corners of the world the four guardians of hell they are your generals you are amassing an army to take over the world to throw down the high powers to make the roads straight and to uproot the evil from the fields you are reaping where others have planted you will make us all even make us all poor we will share in the suffering you will make the mighty to fall they will stumble and be crushed by your might you will bring equality to this world with an axe and saw and the fires of hell everyone will be brought down the mighty will crawl at your feet begging you for mercy

Monday, December 12, 2011

page 37 postmodern poetry

and nails she is such a good carpenter her tool box is pink and shiny it glistens at me I was trying to read her lips I have worked all my life turning metal into a thing a beauty an expression of my soul I put my heart and life blood into my work it was my pride that rolled off that assembly line so much of life has no meaning it makes no sense it is just things we do to survive to pay the bills and put food on the table boring mundane tasks that we do over and over again lick the lash of her whip her family is pretty rich hotter than all the fucking sheep she is cutting up the best parts to feed the horny Texan the depth and breadth and height wooed by the devil and death camp furnace the skull and the spiders dance while the Texan pets his black and white pussy vegetables and fruits shooting all the three footers music is best when practiced over and over just like sex stroking you over and over in your neat little box we have written you into the schedule a capital shrimp with cannibals who drink beer for breakfast playing at your wooden dildo and smoking Mexican dope shooting our guns you can inbreed with scary mary and produce little antinatalists who hide in the woods making videos for the Gestapo sig heil with my sig sauer a full fucking clip bumping up against her service and Canadian bacon the love is spreading across my cowboy boots the Texan loves his kittens and the harsh realities of the real world you are so fucking special so very fucking special I like you more than all the others you smell so pretty and are fun to play with you don’t mind when I pull out my ropes whip and chains bragging rights to the naked video bringing forth every kind of abomination after its own kind the star of smack down is dead an unbelievable ovation for the people’s champion the rock has something to say about setting your ass on fire I did a video that I put out and took back down the best video that I ever done almost twenty minute of pure bullshit it was the purest stuff never been stepped on pure virgin bullshit you never had bullshit like this before look here sonny I don’t think you can handle it I am watching her over and over again pagan mary can make it happen just like a little kid she is so cute and adorable she puts her lips over the bottle she is doing a splice job I have found that the little things are so very beautiful a passionate talk she is the one to blow my horn betty boop is watching us and she is laughing at us she wants to jump in and help we all watched the pole dancer die on Russian television the judges eat turtle soup and clapped with one hand under the table I was so proud for my Russian ballerina boom we all fall down and die like the plague passing through the town on a pale horse his bandana hiding the rope burns you can feel it but you can’t steal it the funk and blues it is in your bones anything that the radio played you can never change we are lions from creation this is my identity bowing to whatever you like it is a plant it is good for everything doing so much good for everyone rebelling against what a captivated mind making you look for yourself not in a sense of owing time for yourself so you can think for yourself to meditate a consciousness the laws are just a thing nothing to be worried about this guns and prisons of the people who want to hurt you I and I it is not a reality telling it through music the news for the people returning to be the king of kings the earth is the mother and the king will return an example one must follow looking outside of my prison