Microscopic bits of a you-and-me sea
Dying quietly – free of fanfare
Let us be food stuff for the seen and unseen
Living – a silly state of conscienceness
Selfishly consume the food, drink and air of day
Caution – the small see all things relevent or not
Acknowledge – the large worship only their massiveness
Loathing both, all and myself – I take my leave
Well versed in the politics of comfort and discomfort
I tend to kill bitterness, resurrect it and kill it again
I prefer the fully naked fruits of laborious toil
So long as it doesn’t require my direction, feet or hands
I am well versed in the politics of lost and found
The lost and found is often an unstable eclectic me
Lost is not now nor ever was an enemy
Found equals the plantation of a combative being
How reasonably absurd to standard eyes and minds
Comformity is a little death, perhaps to only me
Gaze at the lights above
Forget the acts being done below
Count down from a useless ten
Am I better yet?
Are your educated hands proud?
Marred throat refuses even whimpers
Mind violently wants to know
Am I cured yet?
Answer is like lawyer speak
All is promising and we will see
Amputate from within
Dispose the disobedient innards
My partial part killer
How you bring a little death
To create an ease in life
Caramel colored Adonis face
Garbed in London wool gray
Exquisitely exhaling Parisian smoke
Through lambskin leather gloves
Sadly he refers to absurdity displayed
A series of poetic blood sprays (yeah, right)
grotesquely draped across a $5 canvass
In perfect straight face he announces
Starting price for Cruel Life is $100,000!
No flinch, no gasp, no eyebrows raised
Obscene amounts go flying to buy
Buy what? Some pretentious DNA?
And you, my dear Adonis dream-peddler
King snake oil grifter, how you shine
Unsanctimonious lizard utters a turd
I can turn you on baby
Take you back woods huntin’
Got my flatbed, rubbers and ice-cold beer
More assault weapons? I got ’em too
You’ll be safe with me, little cutie
C’mon baby. What da ya say?
That dirty talk just might work
On your cousin twice removed
I was looking for at least a 100 I.Q.
I’d rather be untainted and unarmed
And shot up in World War III
Than to have beer and deer blood stench
Embedded all over me
I would never join a club that accepted me
I mean … that accepted you
Of course, you’re my friend
You fart, belch and endlessly ramble
You’re an ape with semi-human grunts
Still, apes are rife with purpose
Blind loyalty and protection, true assets
And glowingly accentuate my cultured side
Cultured is the science project in my refrigerator!
I am not honored
by the rust that is you
Alleging yourself as white gold
Fathered by platinum
I will not look any closer
Toxic and slowly dying
Solitude is your rain
In the tremendous wake of
A million alien thoughts
Psychotropic drug dreams
And tension cable muscles
There is a sickly but living poet
Seeking a powerful distraction
Cooked a lovely dinner tonight
I am chronically infirmed
But I washed all laundry today
I silently screamed
All laundry in appointed places
Smiled as my angst mind races
Tidy up a few odds and ends
Sobbing the sobs of impatient patients
No worries, right? It’s only a biopsy!
Just another damn diagnostic test
Medicated Words 