Subscribe to Toylit

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

2responsblydevlop [Twitter Found Poem, June 8, 2010]

2responsblydevlop [Twitter Found Poem, June 8, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

u standing in da urinal next to me as i piss oil?
Wit your shea butter?
there is a 2 urinal buffer zone!
The bathroom, is a closed, finite system.
If you pollute or destroy the toilets,
we are the ones who pay.

i DON'T trust u

If freedom doesn't come with spyware,
and comes with inferior user promises then
EMERGENCY DEACTIVATE
your freedom.

the smell...the stench...It's SO nasty...
quick!! OPEN the Windows!!
closed systems can't coexist with
OPEN systems. I smell the smell
of oil piss. My smell is SO Ohmygoodness,
But you smell SO nasty.

MISSION DIAGNOSTIC:
i piss oil, But you can piss off.
you piss me off. you pollute The bathroom
Wit your shea butter. your duty is 2responsbly
devlop The bathroom resorces4humankind!!

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

Monday, June 07, 2010

A Casein Palace, From the Milk of the Dead [Today's News Poem, June 7, 2010]

A Casein Palace, From the Milk of the Dead [Today's News Poem, June 7, 2010]

At home with the clatter of keyboards, in bunkers
Of pavement, they're bathed in the light of their solace.
Electrical windows, each framed with the fossils
From earlier eras, are flashing their insights.
A monitor-whisperer coaxes the image
From boxes that warehouse the secrets that aircraft:
Have captured from deserts—the graveyard of titans...
Have offered from turrets—the nails for a casket.
Alive with the milk of the dead, with a palace
Of casein, they press on their keypads: a séance
They practice with ritual uniforms, speaking
To spirits of gas, of the solids—of liquid.

“The Marines say the analysts, who are mostly in their early to mid-20s, paved the way for them to roll into Marja in southern Afghanistan earlier this year with minimal casualties. And as the analysts quickly pass on the latest data from drones and other spy planes, they are creating the fluid connections needed to hunt small groups of fighters and other fleeting targets, military officials say.”
– Christopher Drew, The New York Times, June 7, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/08/technology/08homefront.html?hp

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

Trapped in Fail Hell [Twitter Found Poem, June 7, 2010]

Trapped in Fail Hell [Twitter Found Poem, June 7, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

don't believe your tv ...they lie..
"The earliest known depiction of Homemade Teeth
was in a Futuristic Floating City in an Ecotopia at Sea.
they had Nine-tenths of the people that there ever were."

Homemade Teeth would bite The earliest known Viagra.
The first time they masturbated, they were on a bed
& they were shooting it point blank in the face
of This old dog bitch.

now I'm Trapped under The tv.
trapped under there for six years. six years. Ohh.
Watchin Religious Ephemera …
(your government) Watchin advertisements for Viagra …
for a Futuristic Floating City in an Ecotopia at Sea.
Watchin This old dog bitch Taking her old
sweet time fucking My Giant Eyeball.
& My Giant Eyeball … it's still The first time
I masturbated My Giant Eyeball to the tv.
I made a game out of shooting The tv point blank in the face.

it's better to lie to yourself on a bed Trapped in fail hell
Watchin Religious Ephemera fucking your Giant Eyeball.

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

Sunday, June 06, 2010

Prisons of Diamond [Today's News Poem, June 6, 2010]

Prisons of Diamond [Today's News Poem, June 6, 2010]

They've crowned you with gemstones that shine in the sunlight.
The panels are sparkling and cover the deserts.
A circuit connects all the disparate pieces.
Beneath your exterior, cables and plumbing
Have drawn you away from your calling as mother.
Your thoughts look like clouds that were launched from a furnace.
Your skin: does it crawl from the movement of servos?

And under the moon and the blades of the chopper
Who squirms on your surface? Who rides in the bushes
A horse made of gristle? Who launches the rocket
That scorches the poppies? Who feeds the survivors?
The surface is buried. Who's digging a passage
Through prisons of diamond, to farm on the rubble—
Unless that's your secret—we're already smothered.

“Mr. Matiullah is one of several semiofficial warlords who have emerged across Afghanistan in recent months, as American and NATO officers try to bolster — and sometimes even supplant — ineffective regular Afghan forces in their battle against the Taliban insurgency.”
– Dexter Filkins, The New York Times, June 5, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/06/world/asia/06warlords.html?hpw

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

They Promise This is THE Year [Twitter Found Poem, June 6, 2010]

They Promise This is THE Year [Twitter Found Poem, June 6, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I want to take a walk, but If there's
no where nice to walk near my house,
I will have to drive some place just to walk.

I drive.

a commercial on the radio about a funeral home.
Every year, they promise, is THE year.
I am not worried about scary life.
I am sure this situation wouldn't be hard to recreate.
At some point WE all have to be
cut into tiny pieces.

2 songs and a commercial on the radio
about A TORNADO.
"I'm coming for you"
I think it says.

Scary today dreams about being cut into tiny pieces.
At some point I don't have a clue.
I just want to take a walk
so I drive.

IF THERE's A TORNADO im definitely
gonna drive some place just to drive some place.
TORNADO!! Argh!
commercial on the radio.
the funeral home!! Argh!
they promise this is THE year.
OMG SOMEONE HELP!
why is No one listening to ME?!!!

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Game of Deflection [Today's News Poem, June 5, 2010]

Game of Deflection [Today's News Poem, June 5, 2010]

He's searching for something to watch on the channels.
An image of alternate self is displaying—
It's out there—if only he finds the right station.
His mirror in bathroom is smeared, the reflection
Is tarnished with toothpaste and spittle. The windows
Are worse than the monitor: both serve as portals
Of entry for forces with semblances bearing
The will of another. He looks for a program
On mountains and caves—where our ancestors huddle
Together. The flames from their pit are projecting
A sign on the wall and they call it a human.
The rain is the echo they name after heartbeats.
The breeze and its howling, they name for their voices.
The elements smother the heat of combustion—
The end of the game for their endless deflection.

“Bravo isn’t simply guessing that the more exposed and personal aspects of Ms. Frankel’s life will appeal to its audience. The network, which finds and tests stars in much the same way that consumer products companies develop and market shampoos and mascaras, has done its homework. And it is confident that this is exactly what viewers want out of a show starring Ms. Frankel, one of its “Bravolebrities.” Viewers’ opinions, carefully observed and culled on the Web and pinpointed through more traditional market research, tend to dictate which Bravo stars graduate from ensemble reality shows to their own programs. The thinking is that they’ve already been vetted by the Bravo audience and the research team, and that they’ve already built brand awareness — so Bravo is, in marketing terms, just extending its product line. ”
– Stephanie Clifford, The New York Times, June 4, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/06/business/06bravo.html?hpw

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

Drive Through Bible-Machines [Twitter Found Poem, June 5, 2010]

Drive Through Bible-Machines [Twitter Found Poem, June 5, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Working on My new novel:
"It ain't those parts of the Bible that I can't understand
it's the parts that I do understand."
Big list of readers!

My readers are amazing morons
im fucking proud of them..
Some of my most cherished friends
are the punching bag.
When I was young, I hit the punching bag.
I was a Bible beater
Now that I'm old I think about
Tzolkin Cycle Hyper-Days by Sandman Creations.

Hahaha!! I am Sandman Creations.
My new novel thinks about
Tzolkin Cycle Hyper-Days and
those parts of the Bible that I can't understand.

Some of my most cherished friends
hate. that's when I know I am doing gr8!
Now that they are old, they are My new
Bible punching bag!!
Now that they are old, they Have
to Have drive-through Bible machines
to Have a drive-through punching bag
of their own.

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

Friday, June 04, 2010

Cadmium Won't Scare My Brain Into A Pretzel [Guest News Poem, June 4, 2010, Misti Rainwater-Lites]

Cadmium Won't Scare My Brain Into A Pretzel [Guest News Poem, June 4, 2010, Misti Rainwater-Lites]
Misti Rainwater-Lites

In an ideal dream panties golden
goddess lipstick world I would be
eating black olives and feta cheese
and drinking a bottle of German Eiswein
by the twinkle tease of dead stars
near gargantuan ocean prettier than
an amethyst and much less placid

I am in bum fucked up the sweaty ass Texas
eating burnt popcorn drinking cheap
but excellent pinot noir listening to John Lennon
wail his love and lust for Yoko Ono
via YouTube

thus.
cadmium exposure via McDonald's
Shrek glasses ain't the heaviest thing
on my mind, boo
I don't live in this world
I float over it
lonelier yet fatter than a Gulf Coast cloud
pissing my petulant rain
on Mardi Gras parades

God! Send me a hurricane!
Send me a reason to evacuate.
All my meals
are happy.

“McDonald's is recalling 12 million drinking glasses featuring characters from the "Shrek" movie series because the paint used contains cadmium, which can pose health risks.”
– Julianne Pepitone, CNN Staff Writer, June 4, 2010
http://money.cnn.com/2010/06/04/news/companies/mcdonalds_recall/index.htm?hpt=Sbin

More Misti Rainwater-Lites here: http://ubiquitousdandelion.blogspot.com/

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

The Bargain [Bonus Poem Collaboration, June 4, 2010, Art: Rutherford Toady (rtoady), Poetry: Khakjaan Wessington (KW)]

The Bargain [Bonus Poem Collaboration, June 4, 2010, Art: Rutherford Toady (rtoady), Poetry: Khakjaan Wessington (KW)]

Art: Rutherford Toady
Poetry: Khakjaan Wessington

I sleep with a basket of cans at my feet.
My monitor flickers. The teevee recites
Some facts on the tidepools not far from my street.
My pizza is finished, the darkness invites
A script from my dreams, where I live on the edge
And snap at the gleanings; the vomit the bay
Has served for my dinner. I watch. On the ledge,
Abutting the rocks—not decayed—dare I pray
For miracles? Pinching its neck with my claws?
Its fat and its alien warmth in my jaws?


More Rutherford Toady at http://carrioncall.blogspot.com

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

The Main Course [Today's News Poem, June 4. 2010]

The Main Course [Today's News Poem, June 4. 2010]

The scales of the fish are of welds and of rivets.
Its gills are atomic, its fangs are its missiles.
And skipping the swells and the waves in migration,
It hunts for its prey—since the rule of the ocean
Is 'eat what is smaller.' Composite-hulled eagles
Observe from the sky, with their eyes made of lenses—
Their talons of gatling. A shark in the water
Was launched by a whale, and this shark drinks the bubbles
That form in the tide. With a turbine, it's speeding;
All teeth and no brain—and it's perfectly suited
To dine on the metal, to play with explosions.
The liquid is churning. The predators gather
Their forces together: the feast is beginning.

“It was not clear what action South Korea was seeking from the Security Council for the sinking of its warship, the Cheonan, which the South says was torpedoed by the North in March. But any Security Council action would have to be approved by China, an ally of the North, which holds a veto in the council.”
– Aubrey Belford, The New York Times, June 4, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/05/world/asia/05korea.html

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

Get Your Head Out of the Game—Your Ass is on the Line [Twitter Found Poem, June 4, 2010]

Get Your Head Out of the Game—Your Ass is on the Line [Twitter Found Poem, June 4, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I saw you last night at the game with your goon squad.
the game: where lying, cheating degenerates prosper.
the game: where Sick bastards start calling all the shots.

I cant believe that we have such sick, twisted degenerates
calling all the shots. calling themselves the boss.
In order to win Game 2 of The #Finals, the twisted degenerates
take a shot at Your head. they shoot... they score!

PUT THE GAME IN their hands.
raise their hands IN THE Air
like they Just dont care.
PUT THE GAME IN their hands
& start calling them boss.
we have such sick, twisted degenerates
calling the shots IN THE Game.
You people are beyond help.

Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader

Thursday, June 03, 2010

Ghetto-Bot [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), June 3, 2010]

Ghetto-Bot [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), June 3, 2010]

A film-bot took my pic. A judge-bot judged
My case. The gun-bots hunt in packs and chase
Until they need a charge. The quarry trudged—
I trudge through streets. A hostile database
Examines clips the cameras take and merge
Me down to size and place: a street of shops
Of votive candles, doughnuts... men who urge
The teens to point and click: the target drops.
A place where anonymity's the rule;
Where everyone is on the run from eyes
That never tire: a heart that keeps its cool
With liquid nitrogen—and never dies.
It's purging randomness from all its files
And herding malcontents to ghetto-isles.

“The city of San Carlos, facing a multimillion-dollar budget deficit brought on by the recession and rising employee costs, is considering a money-saving measure that is all but unheard of in the Bay Area - dissolving its Police Department and outsourcing the job of law enforcement.”
– Henry K. Lee, San Francisco Chronicle, June 3, 2010
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/06/03/MN4M1DFVT8.DTL

Subscribe in a reader

Beyond Petroleum [Twitter Found Poem, June 3, 2010]

Beyond Petroleum [Twitter Found Poem, June 3, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

relaxing at the pool...
The sun is just hot enough...
had A nice time with fried chicken...

A bit windy...The Ocean breeze
upon my face when the wind blows
IS LOVE. The Ocean breeze
and pepper spray upon my face
when the wind blows...
IT BURNS!
Ocean Currents Likely to Carry Oil to the Atlantic??
IT BURNS!
relaxing at the pool The sun BURNS!

and I realize that Pollution IS LOVE.
IT BURNS my fried chicken
IT cools my pool...
IT BURNS my face off

Blatant Pollution
is an acquired taste.
so the next time You are
relaxing at the pool
and everything BURNS your face off
Remember that Beyond the pool of Petroleum
is an Ocean of Petroleum.


Subscribe in a reader

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Egg of Knowledge [Today's News Poem, June 2, 2010]

Egg of Knowledge [Today's News Poem, June 2, 2010]

My proboscis is thirsty. It punctures the surface
Of the wonderful host. And the taste is delicious.
And success is now failure. What once was obsession
And delusion, has taught me to manage the damage
My destructively ravenous hunger has written
On the planet. The recipe calls for a cauldron—
And an ocean will work—and one heats up the surface,
And one bakes it in gasses. The tide is the message
And the script is of salt and the oil that is leaking.
I am drinking what's left of the host and the knowledge
Of the harvest is filling my beak and my body
Can contain what was left and unknown in that shallow
And too delicate cradle: an egg we have eaten.

“The latest attempt to contain the oil gushing into the Gulf of Mexico hit a snag Wednesday when a diamond-studded saw operated by an underwater robot got stuck in the riser pipe it was intended to slice off, federal officials said.”
– Campbell Robertson and Joseph Berger, The New York Times, June 2, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/03/us/03spill.html?hp

Subscribe in a reader

Sucker for Succor [Twitter Found Poem, June 2, 2010]

Sucker for Succor [Twitter Found Poem, June 2, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

boredom got a hold of me...
I haven't had love for ages.
looking 4 some succor!!!

"it was a love boat...a terrorist operation." he says.
"women gave fake love & fake sex to fake men
for More fake in this world.
Immature men have guidance from brazen idols ... but
Immature women have succor from suckers."
I got on the...terrorist operation... the fake love boat
Anyways. I haven't had sex for ages.
i'm a sucker for succor.

Subscribe in a reader

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

Chance Encounter With Brain Meat [Today's News Poem, June 1, 2010]

Chance Encounter With Brain Meat [Today's News Poem, June 1, 2010]

You're slipping. Your balance is missing. The sidewalk
Is taking your chances—you're sliding. A moment
Of doubt and then nothingness. Lying with mittens
In snow, you can't laugh, but it's funny. You hurried
And got here without all the waiting. And twitching
Reptilian parts of your brain can yet listen
To cars on the salt on the snow on the roadway.
You fart as the last of the winter is melting
With springtime; releasing the odor of dinner
For creatures that linger long after your body's
Been frozen—your assets gone liquid—and only
The scavengers feed off your memory's tissue.

“A preschool-aged child was killed and four people injured at rush hour this afternoon when a sputtering light plane heading west from Merrill Field clipped a rooming house then crashed into an unoccupied car dealership at Seventh Avenue and Ingra Street, setting the building ablaze.”
– JIM HALPIN, MEGAN HOLLAND and LISA DEMER, Anchorage Daily News, June 1st, 2010 06:59 PM
http://www.adn.com/2010/06/01/1303320/five-hurt-as-plane-hits-car-dealership.html

Subscribe in a reader

Threatened Species [Twitter Found Poem, June 1, 2010]

Threatened Species [Twitter Found Poem, June 1, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Goodbye cruel Forest.
Goodbye Sea. agricultural fires threaten you
for our consumption.
Get me the oil...

this couldnt be dangerous.
my Fire Hunting boat sure looks safe.
Birds and Sea Creatures
play mind games
but I make you hear and obey.
you Are leading me to a cave with oil...

Are you threatening me?
GIANT cats and cockroaches love pouncing
Out Of The Water and breaking my boat!!!

the next pre-apocalyptic disaster games:
Birds, unicorns and Sea Creatures Hunting humans.
Are They Hunting me?
Somebody help me please!
Get me out! Get my lawyer
now! don't feed me to the cockroaches!
I'll give it all back!!!

Subscribe in a reader

Monday, May 31, 2010

Memorial For Vagrants [Today's News Poem, May 31, 2010]

Memorial For Vagrants [Today's News Poem, May 31, 2010]

The windows are shattered. The vagrants are haunted:
They're stray silhouettes in the alleys, betraying
The layers of darkness that linger this graveyard
Of wealth. And the playgrounds were filled with the children
Of workers. And now they are filled with the lurkers
And drunkards: their stories, too scary for movies.
The living? Who honors the living? Who follows
The losers not planted with markers and statues?
Who builds a memorial, praising the triumphs,
Or mourns for the losses a slide or a window
That carried the children with sand in their footwear
From heights to the depths. And the gardens were smiling,
The plum trees were fragrant. The rosemary blossomed.
The sidewalk was even. It carried the tiny
And precious embodiments love and compassion
Can cultivate. Grown and he's desperate for money—
For anything. Pushing a cart with his blanket,
With photos of happier memories: fading
And lacking memorial—save for the spirits
Of children who played once with sand and now needles,
On playgrounds forgotten—he notices something.
A sign from the city. It's closing. They're fixing
The structures. They'll clean up the shards in the sandbox.
A sign in the weeds says “For sale by foreclosure,”
In front of the house where the windows are broken.

“Black middle-class neighborhoods are hollowed out, with prices plummeting and homes standing vacant in places like Orange Mound, White Haven and Cordova. As job losses mount — black unemployment here, mirroring national trends, has risen to 16.9 percent from 9 percent two years ago; it stands at 5.3 percent for whites — many blacks speak of draining savings and retirement accounts in an effort to hold onto their homes. The overall local foreclosure rate is roughly twice the national average.”
– Michael Powell, The New York Times, May 30, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/31/business/economy/31memphis.html?hp
“Yet for this young interrogator detachment was not ultimately a viable solution: “I know I am the same person who was doing those things. And that’s what tears at your soul.””
– Nancy Sherman, Opinionator, The New York Times, May 30, 2010
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/05/30/a-crack-in-the-stoic-armor/?ref=opinion
Subscribe in a reader

Today is Hey Dude Day [Twitter Found Poem, May 31, 2010]

Today is Hey Dude Day [Twitter Found Poem, May 31, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

“Hey Dude, Today is "Hey Dude...Watch This!!!!!!!" day.
"What's this button do?"
hit the brakes now!
oh shit Today is quit life day.
I think Im going to heaven ...
BUT the weather looks bad.

oh no!!!!!!! Today is also "oh shit
I deleted the weather" day.
Today is also Hurricanes and Oil Spill day.
my Ghost is flying to heaven ...
my Ghost is hit now! !!!!!!!
sharp-edged rocks were flying around!!!!!!!
quick, clone me now!
if I'm frozen...today
I'll give you My Treasure.
The real amazing thing is My Treasure
is made out of Hurricanes and Oil Spill.
Today is "Hey Dude, clone me now!” day.
My Treasure is buried ........”

*dies*

Subscribe in a reader

Sunday, May 30, 2010

In Search of Auto-Oasis [Today's News Poem, May 30, 2010]

In Search of Auto-Oasis [Today's News Poem, May 30, 2010]

A limit's been reached—and the world is not endless.
We're waiting for someone to make the next movement.
We're driving—I'm driving. My purpose seems aimless.
Relief isn't coming, I'm chasing, I'm hellbent

To plow through the challenges: seeking and fleeing
Affliction and cure. The transmission is failing.
The car disassembles on freeway. I'm seeing
If somehow I'll make it—momentum—by sailing

And hoping I'll pass by an expert who's waiting
To master my recklessness. One who's negating
Authority paves me a road to the ocean.
I follow to prove I have faith and devotion.

“The chance that some oil will continue to leak for months was underscored by the managing director of BP, Robert Dudley, who described plans to put in place a second version of a containment dome, a strategy that failed earlier this month. Mr. Dudley, speaking on ABC’s “This Week” program, said that attempt had given the company’s engineers valuable lessons that would be applied to the new dome. But he added that even if it worked, some oil would seep out until the relief wells provided an “end point” by cutting off the flow beneath the seabed.”
– Joseph Berger and Leslie Kaufman, The New York Times, May 30, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/31/us/31spill.html?hp

Subscribe in a reader

The Home Stretch [Twitter Found Poem, May 30, 2010]

The Home Stretch [Twitter Found Poem, May 30, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Wave that green flag again!
4 WIDE down the front stretch
Dario, Helio, Briscoe, bus...
i hate when a bus goes too fast. like
102 mph and falls into a ditch.

the tank explodes. 30 passengers, including 10 children
burn to death. Wouldn't they build a tank anticipating that #nascar
might be shooting at it? anticipating that oil spill nightmare! ?

The Memorial Day Weekend is dedicated to remembering
passengers... including children
who have paid the ultimate sacrifice for this
wonderful....DANGEROUS so called life
so our fear and hate country could be what it is today:
a bursting mortar shell.

Subscribe in a reader

Wacchu Talkin Bout Skinner? [Guest News Prose, May 30, 2010, by Arnold Jackson]

Wacchu Talkin Bout Skinner? [Guest News, May 30, 2010]
By Arnold Jackson

And the red-haired clown came up to Jim Skinner, brandishing those six or seven photographs taken in the late 1980s.  If he had even the smallest flair for dramatics, he might have said, “Extremely good composition, Mr. Skinner, don’t you agree?”  But the clown wanted to get down to business, and simply said, “You probably remember this dead hooker in your bathtub, Mr. Skinner, don’t you?”  From a medical point of view, it was fascinating to watch the cognitive become discretely palpable, just thirty seconds from puzzled brow to pallid glare.  But from an ethical point of view, it was truly a masterpiece.  They say that the Marlboro man, before he kicked the bucket, spent the last few months taking his sweet revenge, by smoking Lucky Strikes in public, right out of his tracheotomy hole.  But the red-haired clown had a whole lot more bad karma than the Marlboro man.  After all, not that many seven year olds had a fit because their mothers wouldn’t give them a light.  The clown had introduced six hundred million schoolchildren to colon cancer and type-13 diabetes, and he had a real bad case of the really bad conscience, and he needed a more elevated form of revenge than walking into a Wendy’s in his trademark clown suit, and stuffing his face in the window with Wendy’s nummy snatch, or whatever they call that chicken sandwich over there.  “Listen, you’ve got it all wrong,” said the gray-faced CEO, in the coolest voice he could muster.  For a moment, the red-haired clown thought that Skinner was willing to be reasonable.  But he just launched into all the predictable pablum about how times were changing, it was nothing personal, it’s me, it’s not you, yada yada, business mumbo jumbo, graphs, charts, Chinese economic patterns, whatever.  The clown sat there, listening patiently, arms crossed, leaning back in the executive-style ergonomic bucket chair, with his extra-long shoes up on Skinner’s desk.  When the CEO was done with his spiel, the red-haired clown simply snorted.  “And now that I’m old and fat, you’re going to terminate my contract?  I don’t think so, Mr. Skinner.”  After he’d spoken, the clown stuffed the photographs back into the manila envelope.  When Ronald McDonald left the room, Skinner remained seated at his enormous jade desk, absently fingering a paperweight made from the skull of one of earliest Ronald McDonalds.  He didn’t like being forced into this particular business decision.  But it just might work, he said to himself.  By the church of L. Ron Hubbard, it just might work.  By the end of the week, the world would see the first full-length television ads of the grotesquely obese Ronald McDonald.

“Retire Ronald McDonald? No way. That's the message McDonald's Corp.'s CEO Jim Skinner gave Thursday to the red-haired clown's critics who say the cartoon promotes unhealthy eating and should go the way of the Marlboro Man and Joe Camel. ”
– (AP) – May 20, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5j1edH9lQQEYKGqv76JXbh95s9r-QD9FQQVRO1

Subscribe in a reader

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Mobius Strip [Today's News Poem, May 29, 2010]

Mobius Strip [Today's News Poem, May 29, 2010]

The bicyclist speeds down the hill. He is drinking.
He sneers as he passes me, flicking a booger
That lands at my feet and I hope—yet I don't—that
He knows of what's coming, I turn and he's crashing.

I see him. He passes from bike to the sky and
He's ground by the asphalt, then trampled by motors.
A driver is panicking. Gunning her engine
She blows through the red and she crushes a stroller.

The truck hits the train and the train hits the cars and
The limits are showing. I bet this continues
Until there's a blast so tremendous it shatters
Our glasses and blows out our brains through eye sockets.

“BP acknowledged the failure Saturday of its latest "top kill" operation to tamp down oil gushing from its blown-out well, and launched a new interim effort to contain the flow.”
– Margot Roosevelt and Louis Sahagun, Los Angeles Times, May 30, 2010 Edition
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-oil-spill-20100530,0,841698.story

Subscribe in a reader

Scream Forever You Fuckers [Twitter Found Poem, May 29, 2010]

Scream Forever You Fuckers [Twitter Found Poem, May 29, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I Sometimes wish we were a communist country
so i could see somebody getting murdered out there....
dont play victim. you talked the stock market.
Now you Are getting murdered for
making a difference: fanny pacs with patriotic colors.

another crazy ass wanted to push
kids that keep running up and down the stairs
down the stairs to have them stop!
she wanted them to shut up and die,
so she could sleep in peace....lol.

oh my GOD I WISH THIS civilization WOULD MOVE.
im DRIVEN BY DISGUST N. RESENTMENT.
im Freaking out a lil.

Murder makes a difference!
execution makes a difference!
you talked the stock market?
push you down the stairs.
you wanted to sleep in peace?
sleep in peace forever.
you just ate a baby?
I screamed. you should scream forever.
dont play victim. im DRIVEN BY
DISGUST N. RESENTMENT for U.

Subscribe in a reader

Friday, May 28, 2010

Charismatic Marine Mega-Fauna Counterattack [Today's News Poem, May 28, 2010]

Charismatic Marine Mega-Fauna Counterattack [Today's News Poem, May 28, 2010]

A whale was bombed from the beach with the fury
Of dynamite charges. Pursuing the motion,
A judge threw harpoons at another; the jury
Was foamed with the blood of the beast from the ocean.

We tread in the liquid. A courtroom reporter
Is bouncing off walls from the blast of the spouting.
The penguins and pinnipeds caught on recorder,
Are leaping from cages to tackle the shouting

Defending attorney. Their legal adviser
Extends just a briefcase to fend off attackers,
Who tear at his face with their beaks and incisors.
The splintering furniture, coated with lacquer

All roils in the courthouse. A tide can't be swelling:
Can't vanquish the dockets—can't spill in the street—
To cover the city, its people, their dwellings
With drowning—like beaches, a scene of defeat.



“Japan rebuffed a threat by Australia to take Tokyo to court over its whaling in the Antarctic, saying on Friday that the annual hunts were permitted under international law and accusing the Australian government of exploiting the issue for political gain.”
– Hiroko Tabuchi and Mark McDonald, The New York Times, May 28, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/29/world/asia/29whales.html?src=mv

Subscribe in a reader

Watching Gary Coleman Get His Angel Wings While Flying 1st Class on Devil's Airlines [Twitter Found Poem, May 28, 2010]

Watching Gary Coleman Get His Angel Wings While Flying 1st Class on Devil's Airlines [Twitter Found Poem, May 28, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

WHAT YOU TALKIN BOUT EVVVERYONE?
I had over 100K as a toddler. money was no object to me.
I was part of click (sp) 20 strong called real world inc.
I was in the core group but now I only talk to one of em.

I got drunk off sum shit called PinkLemondrops
now I work the corner of Avenue Q.
I was going to work on a movie
starring me And #GaryColeman.
now that will never happen.

I wonder what Conrad Bain thought
when he heard he died? People Didnt Even Know #garycoleman
Was Still Alive Untill He Was Dead.

I heard he was mall cop....
I heard he was trying to get his angel wings....
I heard he was Still Alive Untill He Was Dead
and nobody noticed.
lesson to be learned: quit life while people care.

when it came to making a movie while people Still care
gary coleman came up short.
& now i'm flying to hell in first class flying on devil's airlines
for making jokes on #GaryColeman.

Subscribe in a reader

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Homing Chicken, Part II [Today's News Poem May 27, 2010]

Homing Chicken, Part II [Today's News Poem May 27, 2010]

Even a chick has to break its own shell.
Hatched in a classroom, the kids call them 'peeps.'
Tending the cages for birdies to dwell,
Students observe that beneath the cute cheep,
Predators lurk. When the black one falls sick,
Siblings both bury the bird in the chips—
Wood for a grave that the yellow ones kick.
Golden like sunlight that's ready to drip
Off of a cloud that evaporates soon
After that instant. The birdlings are burned.
Death by the heater that gave them the boon—
Life and then ashes: the lesson kids learned.

“Powerful governments and political expediency are helping to perpetuate torture, war crimes and other human rights abuses around the world, Amnesty International said Thursday in its annual report.”
– Mark McDonald, The New York Times, May 27, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/28/world/28amnesty.html

“The dire impact of the massive Gulf spill was apparent Sunday on oil-soaked islands where pelicans nest as several of the birds splashed in the water and preened themselves, apparently trying to clean crude from their feet and wings.
Pelican eggs were glazed with rust-colored gunk in the bird colony, with thick globs floating on top of the water. Nests sat precariously close the mess in mangrove trees.”
– GREG BLUESTEIN and MATTHEW BROWN, The Associated Press, Sunday, May 23, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gIXWYBTpLtSayJtg41LKXpxSxVPAD9FSN9GO4

Subscribe in a reader

Hungry Horny Hippos On An Alligator Cloud [Twitter Found Poem, May 27, 2010]

Hungry Horny Hippos On An Alligator Cloud [Twitter Found Poem, May 27, 2010]

float on an alligator cloud.
win Sex with an alligator.
bite like an alligator.
it is just a game.
bite off the face of your face
and float with the cloud
to Lizard City.....

Lizard City looks like an alligator City but is coo as hell.....
on Fire like hell. Lizard City is just a cloud
on Fire like hell. go have some Sex and the City
alligator..... on an alligator cloud.
This game is called Nuclear Fire Crocodile Killer.
r u kidding me?!
it is just a game.
I killed me?!
it is just a game.
I give you an alligator cloud
for your/my face to bite off the face that feeds you/me.

the cloud Upon which I float I called
the City, before I played the game
called Nuclear Fire Crocodile Killer,
I ate like a snapping turtle like A hungry hungry HOUSE HIPPO,
I made a City on a cloud!!
I killed you/me and it is just a game.


Subscribe in a reader

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Ancient One's Invisible Hand is a Tentacle [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 26, 2010]

The Ancient One's Invisible Hand is a Tentacle [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 26, 2010]

Tentacles wander the fathoms; they're searching:
Grasping for nourishment, seeking possession.
Corals are crumbled and sucked by the lurching
Feelers with mouths—they've a hungry aggression.
Cold is a measure of distance. The suckers
Latch to the pebbles, atolls, to the beaches...
Grinding the islands, appendages pucker,
Kissing the nourishment flecks that it leeches.
Diving again: submerging and seeking
Treasures in castles of sand that are tended
Laxly, but helpless is better. The ekings
Animals struggle to keep are upended
With grasps from the ocean. A smothering tether
That taps its own hunger will draw all together.

“At least 44 people were said to be dead after a third day of violence in Kingston, Jamaica, as security forces assaulted the slum stronghold of armed groups believed to be defending accused Jamaican drug lord Christopher "Dudus" Coke... Much of the problem, authorities say, lies with the long-festering issue of Jamaica's criminal organizations, many centered in Kingston's shantytowns, and the rise of powerful "dons." In exchange for the community's protection of their illicit activity, these figures offer services that the government at times doesn't, such as welfare and local justice. Mr. Coke is among the most powerful of these men.”
– Joel Millman and Nicholas Casey, The Wall Street Journal, May 26, 2010, 1:54pm ET
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704717004575268253857164996.html?mod=WSJ_hpp_MIDDLENexttoWhatsNewsTop


Subscribe in a reader

You Can Pretend You Don't Know Anything About EVERYTHING But The Truth!!![Twitter Found Poem, May 26, 2010]

You Can Pretend You Don't Know Anything About EVERYTHING But The Truth!!![Twitter Found Poem, May 26, 2010]

A censor is a person who knows more
than he or she thinks he she ought to.

afraid of conversation? afraid of your perspective?
afraid of Public opinion turning against Chanel!!!?
let's fix that, mister or missus BP!!!

Permanently Delete EVERYTHING on your PC
on your oil leak. Chanel Wipes it clean.
The Net interprets censorship as damage, and routes around it.
I interpret you as the damage of Chanel!!!

Chanel routes around you, and censors
your greatest sins and tragedies.
you can Delete everything and never see
what you dont like never again.

A vain person can be a very unintelligent one!
but Double standards at their best
Permanently Delete EVERYTHING.
You can Pretend You Don't Know Anything
About EVERYTHING but the truth!!!

Subscribe in a reader