Doomsday Corporation

Martin Freebase is a member of the Doomsday Corporation. He contributes with Deep Piercing Cut, Ender Wiggin, Bobby Slade, Tatterdemalion, Lucem Fere, and China Love on all creative endeavors associated with the Doomsday Corporation.

The Doomsday Corporation controls; a magazine http://deeptissue2.blogspot.com/; two Youtube channels http://www.youtube.com/MartinFreebase and http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCYT3pzdeifDCzGfkNcimpDA; two musical pages http://www.unsigned.com/deeppiercingcut and http://soundcloud.com/martin-freebase; and five blogs http://martinfreebase.blogspot.com/, http://deeppiercingcut.blogspot.com/, http://simulacrasimulacrum.blogspot.com/, http://boiledtomatoesbook.blogspot.com/, and http://secondbookpoetry.blogspot.com/. The Doomsday Corporation is committed to spreading the Disease.

human suffering 25.9

25.9

You are willingly perverse among the detours and the ditches as you walk and talk the temptations of this world. You are a committed sensualist constantly in pursuit of your prize. You come to me in armfuls of love and desire, shooting the alley cat out the hotel window. I get wooly and hard to live with as I drain another bottle of bourbon, a startling juxtaposition. I was dangling from the chandelier and you cut me down with your razor blade. You shook me from my slumber and forced me to see the shit in the world. We become thick-headed from our derailments and prohibitions. I was thinking of a new name for you, something from the elide- a thing that joins the present with the past. I gave you away in seed packets. I asked strangers to plant you. You were warm and green and had love in your pockets. Your smile is what kept me from dreaming of death. I am standing on your school of fish as I sell lemonade at the carnival. A Rhesus monkey taught me how to squeeze the lemons. There is a wino in the doorway smoking a menthol cigarette. He asked me for a dollar to buy some food. He had tired eyes that were tired of living. He wrote his love songs on little pieces of paper and then posted them on the internet when he could get access to a computer at the library. He told everybody that he was a poet, but no one believed him, they couldn’t see past the tatterdemalion. He lives in the American hotel and remembers the dinosaurs. He said it was important to not be too drunk around the dinosaurs. I am grinding the coffee beans to make a pot of coffee. The wino likes his coffee black, it reminds him of El Paso. He would come visit your hamburger stand and sing you his love songs. You put flowers between his buns. One day he robbed a jewelry store so that he could give you a birthday present. You told him that you only wanted the daydreams that escape from your windows. He ran out into the street with a butterfly net to catch them.

human suffering 25.8

25.8

You are a complete slave to the drug. You have the power to change history, to change people, falling under the spell of macro-economics. It was so musical and dirty how the bruise appeared on your thigh. You call me ill-mannered in your childish way. I can see the resentment in your eyes when I am on top of you. You could fly away from this if you only wanted. Why you stay is a complete mystery. When I watch you dance, I remember where it is that I came from. There are so many things that I have lost and so many things I have forgotten. Remember all the things we threw out the window of that old Ford custom 500? We were trying to make our own place in the world. We didn’t know about fate and the different start times for the race. I kept running with my stigmata like it was some prized trophy that can get me through the door of some exclusive nightclub. Do you want to hear me testify about how I was so fucking lost? We drove that old piece of crap until it wouldn’t run no more. Remember when Leo raced around the neighborhood shouting, “You mother fuckers!” It was all funny until he drove into some old lady’s porch. We would listen to the Tennessee waltz and look at your naked pictures that I took with a Polaroid camera. We gave nickels to the Mormons when they asked us if we knew Jesus. You told them that he worked in a bodega on the street corner. You would hold my hand like I was your broken down papa as we walked the streets singing Johnny Cash songs and puff the magic dragon. You always knew more of the verses than I did. I think some of them you made up just to impress me. All you had to do to impress me was smile.

human suffering 25.7

25.7

She accuses me of being bourgeoisie with the napalm. I walk around the room naked, breathing in her smoke. On the kitchen table there is a sword and a bottle of red wine. Tonya is humming something from the Ramones. A slow piano melody plays in the background; it is like someone forgot to turn it off. Searching for the right chords to help us find our way among the illusions. We need a new life, a new direction. We are leaving the mines and feeling a little bit sick. You were so shiny and new. We are surrounded by a sea of houses. The smoke rings break apart and turn into small demonic fingers. They point at you and I, accusingly. It is as if they know of the great evil that we committed against god and man. You are always sitting next to me, smiling approvingly. We speak a language between each other without words. I have started the self-destruct sequence. Let’s just press the reset button. You have been stealing from the graves again. Someone had told me this as I stopped to buy a paper. You said you were only breaking even. I’m sleeping in your house with one eye open. Tonya has fallen down and I helped her up. I tied her close to my waist as she wrestled with the parachute. We placed the knots so carefully over you and we called in the ghost. We picked up your disorder from the store. It looked so new and gorgeous. We took the gun and held it to your head.

human suffering 25.6

25.6

There were lines in your reasoning that I could not trace. She is giving me two hours of mumbo jumbo. I wish I could do something about it, maybe create a vaccine. She could dance with the fullness of her womanhood. We sat on our hands and watched the witches dance. They seemed like such pretty little witches. I wondered about their extra nipples. They kicked their legs up high and made attempts to fly. How would they finish? Would they finish at all or would they spin on forever until eternity broke loose from the coils of time? She wants to believe in my smell. I am devoid of purpose, I have become absurd. This world does not make sense, yet the rituals of our lives are very entertaining. We laugh at their utter meaninglessness. You have mistaken me as someone who only wants to wait. You think of me as a gap between though and action. We begin with the living individual and construct our machines of war from these weak materials. You made a life out of fighting against the machine of war. I am a man charging a machine gun nest armed only with a sword. Sometimes life contains aspects that may appear to a rational mind to be absurd. The appearance is only because of ignorance, because of a lack of understanding from the view point of the other. The absurd is that which we do not know of or we do not understand. Is a soldier who throws his body on a grenade being absurd or being very meaningful?

human suffering 25.2

25.2

I crawled on my belly through the cornfields. I wanted to lay still and become like the dust. Prudence was calling my name. The doors to her heart are locked. She looks so small tonight. I can almost not see her.  She is tiny like a bug. I can feel her, she consumes me. This cornfield is full of killers tonight. The dirt soaks up their illness. One by one I put the barrel of the gun into their mouths. I can see the alienation in their eyes. I can see their hurt all across their faces. No one is innocent and no one wants to be brave tonight. I told them that I would make them real. We go to a bar and sit down at a table. The waitress comes over to take our order. She has a way of making us lose our minds. That can be a dangerous thing. She wants to burn us out. The waitress used to preach the gospel until she was possessed by a demon. She makes me want to drink beer. She makes me want to sell bibles door to door. Just so I can lick her pussy. I go to the hardware store and buy her a bag full of nails. We are fucking on top of the table. The killers are watching us fuck. There is drool running down their chins. I reach inside you, deep inside you and pull out your uterus and shake it in your face.