Guinea Pig's Lament [Today's News Poem, September 19, 2010]
You put up my photo on Craigslist:
A cowlick of calico squealing
That swallowed his teeth for the portrait;
For handfuls of breakfast and cuddles.
I trusted you more than my instincts
Or mother—your hands were beloved:
They fed me. I only bit carrots—
And never in anger. Imagine
It for me; my pall made of paper,
My graveyard, a serpent: a master
Of supper. I died for your shortage...
You couldn't imagine the motives
Respectable people with manners
Conceal on the phone or with handshakes;
And what they would kill for the sake of
A snake in a cage by the dishes.
“But when Mr. Ryan, 22, was admitted to the trial in May, he was assigned by a computer lottery to what is known as the control arm. Instead of the pills, he was to get infusions of the chemotherapy drug that has been the notoriously ineffective recourse in treating melanoma for 30 years.”
– Amy Harmon, The New York Times, September 18, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/19/health/research/19trial.html
Animal, Mineral, Vegetable [#twitterfoundpoem, September 19, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
ANIMAL NITRATE SUEDE soup
made a delightful dinner. it was actually soooooo goood
That my Eyes popped open...
but they were brain dead!!!!!
I flopped like a brain dead
Attack tortoise... Holy Infidels!
ANIMAL NITRATE SUEDE soup was soooooo goood!!!!!
mineral NITRATE vegetable soup?
fuck off.
If you were a hotdog and I was starving, would I eat you?
fuck off.
I'm Brain = dead.
I'm a delightful Gargantuan Asshole
made of canine, chicken, pork and pork
on challah!
ANIMAL NITRATE SUEDE soup
made me the famous lips and Asshole hotdog
I am today!
Package Tours Through Spirit Worlds [Today's News Poem, September 18, 2010]
Note the grubby toes his sandals expose.
Step inside and dodge the guard of the lodge:
Totems carved in trunks. This man is a drunk.
Still he leads the prayer to nature. The air
Stinks of hippie sweat. The tourists are wet.
Steam may conjure ghosts—our bearded guide hosts
Faces from the log: they rise from the fog.
Grizzly points through mist at me. I resist
Drinking water, rub my eyes. There's a cub
Now and both are scowling. “Hoot” and the owl
Flaps and feathers fall. I'm chapped and I call
Out, but others trance while spirits fly—dance
Right in front of me. “I own this! You see?”
This is worth the price; my money's worth—nice.
Every beast that hunted humans, we blunt.
Eat the trophy. Blood's delicious and mud
Waits beneath the creek to bathe us who seek
Wisdom from the dead: our gold for their lead.
“Following her tea party-fueled victory in Delaware’s GOP senate primary this past week, Christine O’Donnell has soared to national prominence faster than you can say “Sarah Palin.” In fact, many are likening O’Donnell to the mama grizzly herself. But some observers are beginning to see class as an issue within the GOP itself as it struggles to balance its traditional view of who should be in the club with the tea party insurgency that has notched significant wins over establishment Republican candidates in this year’s primary elections. ”
– Brad Knickerbocker, Staff Writer / September 18, 2010
http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Politics/2010/0918/Class-as-a-way-of-understanding-Christine-O-Donnell-and-the-tea-party
Investments in Disease [#twitterfoundpoem, September 18, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
Invest in spongiform brain diseases.
love them.
DONT KNOW WHERE TO GET TICKETS
for your own prion brain diseases?
Technically I should be off the grid already
but I'll tell you.
we use hell TO Raise hell.
Raise dem big ole glasses.
Clink clink.
I Invest my problems in brain diseases.
I love them.
it's for my own good.
I Radiate mental illness!!!!!
drink a glass of milk and deviled ham paste with me!
Let's Invest in spongiform brain diseases together!
Clink clink.
“Someday the Jew will be known as a sandwich,”
Graveyards await the messiah, my friend.
Maybe he came, but nobody could greet him.
Even more likely, they caught him and jailed
Prince of the peace everlasting. “Extinction's
Fine,” you had told me, “first, let me die.” You were
Always precocious: arrested and murdered
Ages ago, while my Jewish remains
Thrust near the limit, through starlight—I'm searching,
Always at night, for survivors, Minyan's
Not at all possible. Noah the Night Jew
Rides through the cosmos as well, I am sure
Someday we'll meet and confess what we've witnessed:
Nuclear explosions and atheist sorrow.
Sensei twitches: brainstem itches.
Scores of insect lords infect
Boards of wooden brains, he's lain
Bones on benches. Crones and wenches
Feed the dusk their seed on husks.
Peeling clothing, feeling loathing,
Lain his stilts, he's slain with guilt.
Chess board master; stress-disaster
Sleepy screamer, creepy dreamer;
Knight of weed, he's slight in deed:
Diving boards through thriving gourds—
Swimming pools are trimming fools
Playing toys like praying boys,
Frisco-banned lout, schizo handout:
Corrective gears, reflexive tears.
Each time a devil obtains its own pitchfork
An angel is learning to die.
Now populations of seraphim plummet
While newer and stronger gods rise.
No evil germinates without a fertile
Black soil, so the roots might unfurl
Out from the inky and smothering blackness—
From mineral, up to the top.
Rage grasps their hope. Pandemonium rises:
Huge. Modern and filled with the hope
That lives in avarice, laughter and throttles—
Yes, murder and paranoid hate.
Smile and the office awaits you.
Grin and you'll ride to the steeple of glass.
A bow-tie suggests that you're honest,
While glasses imply that you read when you can.
So help them to cover their asses.
They'll pay you with passcodes, permissions to transfer
what's hidden in cubicles; breathing through
fax machines; hissing in copiers, blazing
through halogens. You'll conquer the windows and walls
with a taxi that's speeding the emperor home
to his chariot: wings over smog.
They call you a thief, or Raskolnikov
yet there's a house by the beach on an island,
awaiting its Bonaparte, dressed in a bow;
to breakfast with Caesar, the Emperor Qin,
and talk about the fairness of confidence.
Flash Flood [Today's News Poem, September 17, 2010]
Arguments as sharp as shattered dishes,
Bills, or cigarettes she finds beneath the sink.
Everything's escape, so seek the yard and think.
Overtime to grant the little wishes
Fixing broken printers grants this worker.
Coffee through the day, insomnia by night.
Life's a string of instants; rarely feeling right,
Often worse. Lethargic, sleepy shirkers
Wake at home to quibble with their spouses
Rarely sleeping—no! Belay that little death!
Drive away from bankers squeezing out their breath
Working them exhausted, slave to houses.
Night is best. The road suggests an egress
White as light reflecting off the tidal swell;
Paved at first with cliff and sand. If one would dwell
Free, then risk the path of moon that blesses
Cowards off a cliff... then stay that steering
Wheel and keep to road. It's only if the ice
Slips you where the crabs select your deadened eyes—
Accidental death: heroic veering.
“There were more than 1,300 reports of damaged trees that were called into 311 or observed by Parks Department employees. Red dots show areas with downed trees. ”
– The New York Times, September 17, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2010/09/17/nyregion/brooklyn-storm-map.html
Yum Kipper [#twitterfoundpoem, September 17, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
behold Yon Kipper!!!
fish of oppression.
All this fuss about a baby smoked fish
is never complete without the Pope and I fighting over
organised religion.
I bought a bucket of condoms to throw at him.
he bought a knife and gutted me!!!
he Bathed, refreshed in my Jewish blood
and smoked my lifeless body
in his Temple of Doom.
then he packed me in cans
and now behold:
Yum Kipper.
Doctrinal Mean [Today's News Poem, September 16, 2010]
Death is the victor, virtue's illusion;
Honor your fists with noses that catch them,
Punish the vices holding that smiling
Chin in its place. Deliver some anguish.
Render your foe—yes, bloody that sinner.
Hating the sin is easier. Better
Hammer the nails of wisdom to faces
Twisted with vices—silence those cowards!
Gaia's indifferent; caring for tombstones,
Blood from antagonists: doctrine's a bore.
“According to Aristotle, courage is a mean between rashness and cowardliness... Boxing provides practice with fear and with the right, attentive supervision, in quite manageable increments... While Aristotle is able to define courage, the study and practice of boxing can enable us to not only comprehend courage, but “to have and use” it.”
– GORDON MARINO, The New York Times, September 15, 2010
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/09/15/boxing-lessons/
“Two Afghans, at least one of them armed, were killed Thursday in another protest over a rumored burning of the Koran, Islam’s holy book, nearly a week after a fringe pastor in Florida who had incited widespread outrage over his plans to incinerate Korans in a 9/11 memorial bonfire canceled those plans. ”
– ROD NORDLAND, The New York Times, September 16, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/17/world/asia/17koran.htm
“Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment, regulate every act and thought accordingly. But to go away from among men, if there are gods, is not a thing to be afraid of, for the gods will not involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or if they have no concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live in a universe devoid of gods or devoid of providence? But in truth they do exist and they do care for human things, and they have put all the means in a man's power to enable him not to fall into real evils. But death certainly, and life, honor and dishonor, pain and pleasure, all these things equally happen to good men and bad, being things which make us neither better nor worse. Thus they are neither good nor evil.”
– Page 12, Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, Translated by George Long; The Peter Pauper Press, 1957
Don't Waste Your Foodstamps on a Dead Zone [#twitterfoundpoem, September 16, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
IF U SPEND IT U r crazy.
SPEND the time U barely get,
U crazy fuck,
Trying to decipher friends' experiences?
Trying to see if U learned how to decode delusion?
wtf?
deprive a Friend of oxygen and they will get
desperate as fuck.
delay friends' experiences and see how friendly
they get.
when U listen to a Friend U blow oxygen
out ur unemployed and delusional ass!
don't listen!
don't SPEND the only time U barely get,
the foodstamps of time U barely get,
on a seafood bash Friend dead zone!
Likewise, voids expand where pattern
Flourished, leaving just a serpent's
Tooth to sprout a new dynamic.
“Former President Bill Clinton had a very simple - and personal - reason Tuesday to forgive and endorse his longtime Democratic adversary Jerry Brown.
It was in both their interests.”
– Phillip Matier & Andrew Ross, The San Francisco Chronicle, September 15, 2010
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/09/15/BAHD1FDTOQ.DTL
colddd as a mother fucker.
now i know why.
The spy satellite I got
is changing the weather.
colddd as a mother fucker,
my heart is of ice.
I punished your cat with my bird
at my bird feeder.
my fucker bird
was casing your cat from the sky.
my colddd Crazy Ass Mother
Fucker bird spy satellite
was attacking your cat. did you witness
that awesome attack from the sky?
did you witness my bird Fucker spy satellite
attacking your cat at my bird feeder
site? Witness the fuck of the sky,
colddd as a mother fucker,
Sexual Predator satellite Pro 1.0;
mine for the moment.
Superior Replicas [Today's News Poem, September 14, 2010]
Pelicans truce with the sun's radiation.
Farther, panopticon satellites witness
Tuna that gape at the synchronized plummets
Of aircraft, for terrible Terra's elation.
They gasp for the oxygen, lost in the fitness
Of excellent submarine dives, as we summit.
“A 12-foot section of a damaged pipeline that sent oil bubbling to the surface outside Chicago was being replaced Tuesday, and a federal official said crews hoped to fill in the excavation site this week.”
– KAREN HAWKINS (AP) – 46 minutes ago as of 3:31pm PST, September 14, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5jjESZ0otZNdRiYrexijr-ORNXSvQD9I7UPK81
Serf Bazaar [Today's News Poem, September 13, 2010}
Beads of trading glass on hempen vines,
Crystal bowls and servant boys or girls...
Full of choices, everything's expense.
Come beyond the dollar curtain; don
Uniform and sweep the floors—and take
One of many pleasures. Leave the rest.
Nothing here's forbidden; simply ruled.
Even time is costly: waste not, want
Less. If sleep is how you take it, go.
Horde your surplus. Keep your options safe.
Youth departs, but still we fantasize
Everything is possible expense.
“The student loan default rate continued to rise in fiscal year 2008, the latest period for which data is available, with default rates for students at for-profit colleges — already the highest — rising the fastest.”
– TAMAR LEWIN, The New York Times, September 13, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/14/education/14colleges.html
Neutral Theology [#twitterfoundpoem, September 13 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
I'm not sure why, but I'm thinking
that Prayer Changes Sex.
I'm thinking that neutral theory
can express deep neutral choices.
I'm not sure why.
beyond words there are only choices,
and we all have to live with the consequences.
Prayer Changes neutral theory,
to express deep, neutral emotion.
my best Prayer Changes me gender-neutral!
Selective Enforcement [Today's News Poem, September 12, 2010]
Everything's governed in nature from tendrils of seedlings
To withering heat and neglect. So the poppy has vanished?
Coppery blossoms of orange were swallowed. You noticed
The change when you bothered to see what indifference gardened.
Longing for surety; glistening—dewy in morning—
You killed it, expecting that elements honor your whimsy.
Seasons have shifted beneath you, above you—forever.
“... the group fell victim to one of the authorities’ newest tactics for quelling dissent: confiscating computers under the pretext of searching for pirated Microsoft software.”
– CLIFFORD J. LEVY, The New York Times, September 11, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/12/world/europe/12raids.html?_r=1
Psalm23.1 [#twitterfoundpoem, September 12, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
i finish like clockwork with constant improvement
and hold you accountable. All of us finish
by whipping out angelic wings and the legends
of Yin and Yang Quantum: another obsession.
its finally peaceful n quiet. my sensor
is off and my New electronic skin gives me
those senses of touch and of Cruelty. i'm sorry.
my sensor was off and I shouldn't encourage
another obsession. if robots MUST feel, Then
We hold you accountable. All of us pray for
a finish like clockwork with constant improvement
that gasses you sheep like a gaseous shepherd.
Relapsarian State [Today's News Poem, September 11, 2010]
Garden microbes. Summon spirits,
Organisms, parasites.
Seethe beneath the tranquil moon.
Mutilation makes it sweeter.
Simmer baskets filled with fingers,
Genitals and baby toes.
Baste beneath the neutral light;
Spirits call through jungle bushes.
Drink the smog and dump the cauldron.
Error under canopies.
Drink your share from festive cups
Pledge the rest to neutral spirits
Thin the locust dappled Eden.
Sacrificial apples: eaten.
“Five Americans — two doctors, two nurses and an organizer — who carried donated AIDS drugs to Zimbabwe for distribution to the poor were arrested Thursday and remained jailed in Harare on Saturday on a charge of dispensing the medicine without the supervision of a pharmacist or proper licenses, their lawyer said. ”
– CELIA W. DUGGER, The New York Times, September 11, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/12/world/africa/12zimbabwe.html?hpw
“A CONTESTED confession of a man charged with child murder describes how he was promised R5000 to harvest human body parts from a living person. ”
– dispatch.co.za, 2010/09/09
http://www.dispatch.co.za/article.aspx?id=431809
Tetris House Cleaner [#twitterfoundpoem, September 11, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
a programmer who lives in a videogame,
is like my mom irking my nerves.
I'm going to explode today, I swear...
a living videogame just looks to be proof of concept type thing.
my mom lives in a Tetris blocks videogame
and She Was Ready for me
after an extensive clean up of my room.
looks to be proof of concept type thing:
Inception of my Conception
as The Prince of Gosplan!
Engineering a Demon [Today's News Poem, September 10, 2010]
Thrusting the thrashing snakes into the crusting and crashing quakes—
Baked then it's dusted with gunpowder; slaked with bones they busted:
Asphalt transmitted the lies. It's my fault. I'm smitten with skies
Frying the scramble and doing my crying through pipe-rambles.
Under the fortress of bedroom; the thunder shrieks through floor stress.
Tress of the spark from the wires—it will bless us: flames will embark.
“The death toll from the natural gas line explosion that leveled a San Bruno neighborhood grew overnight to four as federal investigators joined the probe into what caused the disaster.”
– John Wildermuth, Will Kane Marisa Lagos,Henry K. Lee, The San Francisco Chronicle, September 10, 2010
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/09/10/BAVQ1FBPMD.DTL&tsp=1
Pumpkin Framed Roger Rabbit [#twitterfoundpoem, September 10, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
ohhh a plane crash.
I can see it already.
were you thinking about getting new legs?
come out and get New Ones
cuz thts ur christmas gift...
OH YEAH don't THANK me FOR DAH new legs!
i love you honey bunny.
sometimes i wonder what damage I could have done there
if I didn't kill those witnesses.
You wouldn't have gotten new legs!
I covered it up with a totally different explosion.
a natural gas line explosion.
Oh yes! Hahah no, they tortured some
Poor souls and caught a Rabbit
and put the Poor Rabbit on trial.
I hear they boiled him alive.
I Framed Roger Rabbit
and it Was all FOR You.
Pumpkin loves you honey bunny.
...what do you want to talk about now?
Oppressive Jesters [Today's News Poem, September 9, 2010]
Gesticulate jesters! Your grandiose gestures sweep through the gilding of anthill and building. Impressive arrays of obedience comes from your cufflinks, your buttons of ivory; plastic black keyboards and rubber on phones. If the drill doesn't conquer your suction will triumph. If spills can't allay your oppression; your bills of expedience, then die-offs of krill and a murderous playa will serve to display all those trophies: the bones that you gather, the carcasses bursting with gaseous burps. Burn out attention: the longer they mention your names, then the sweeter the silence that history claims on your ruin. After the beaches have rusted, your speeches will wander through space and the void will expand all the forces of nature: conspiring against you—ignoring your words with defiance.
“Donald J. Trump was spurned in an offer to purchase the site of the proposed Islamic community center near New York City’s Ground Zero for the price paid plus 25 percent.”
– John Gittelsohn and Esmé E. Depre, Bloomberg, Sep 9, 2010 4:31 PM PT
http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2010-09-09/donald-trump-offers-to-buy-site-of-proposed-new-york-mosque-at-25-premium.html
U.S. Space Marines Raid the Nazi-Angel Infested Planet [#twitterfoundpoem, September 9, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
Captain,
my angel detector is reading high angel radiation levels.
Captain my Captain the Angels and a stripper are fighting
a Ninja, a Pirate, on a shark infested Planet.
our U.S. space Marines board this angel infested Planet
and burn lots of books that contained apposing philosophies and worldviews.
Captain,
We're not Angels. Angels wouldn't do this.
Captain my Captain
the Angels have captured us.
They're making us walk the gangplank
in Ninja-Pirate infested waters.
Captain...!?
Superman boards the angel-captured vessel!
he beat-up 2 mannequins sitting in a vintage Cadillac- vessel!
he captures their Nazi stripper...
We're saved! Superman offers 2 exchange hostages.
oh no!
she has kryptonite in her vagina!
Angels wouldn't do this!
Superman becomes a statue
and Nazi UFOs take him!
oh no Captain!
oh shit shit shit shit my Captain my Captain.
death detector Readings are off the charts!
I'm very confused. Angels wouldn't do this.
help me Captain!
Evolution of Prison [Today's News Poem, September 8, 2010]
Actresses writhe on the set, while erections collide.
Sperm in a petri dish fills up the emptiness brides—
Daughters of actors and actresses; mothers of fucks
Grow in primordial stew in a belly of muck.
Fuck this director, I walk off the set, through a door
Into a forest—they're painting the stars I adore
Over the canopy. Crickets are tweeting and bears
Circle around my encampment and nothing much cares
Plaster is falling from firmament. Walls on the set
Close on us all so I sprint for the egress from threat.
Corridors, hallways and knobs on each option—they're tricks:
Cells in a prison of cells made of cellular bricks.
“More than 700 inmates in the northern Nigeria city of Bauchi were freed Tuesday night in a daring raid by well-armed attackers on a prison where members of an Islamist sect were being held, authorities and witnesses said Wednesday. ”
– Adam Nossiter, The New York Times, September 8, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/09/world/africa/09nigeria.html
Destiny of Doppelganger [#twitterfoundpoem, September 8, 2010] Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem
when is it my chance
to fulfill my destiny?
I'm not the only person
buggin out about bs.
#alliwant is to fulfill my destiny!
to be a young guy in a wheelchair on the bus...
to Tell me to fuck me...
to feel like a real man now
and to fuck my destiny.
castrating the motivation of LUV.
I want to drive a hearse
off a pier. I want to fuck an old guy
with my destiny :
to be a young guy in a wheelchair
while my doppelganger IS learning
to swim off a pier:
an old guy in a wheelchair
denying me the joy of drowning
in my old age Thereby, switching places,
and denying me the joy of encasing me
in concrete and burying me out at sea.
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