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Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Pine Lethe [Today's News Poem, September 28, 2010]

Pine Lethe [Today's News Poem, September 28, 2010]

You aren't worth the poem
it would take to explain.
Or maybe you are,
but I don't think that I'll bother.

What do I get for a mouthful of pinecones?
I reckon it's loss. Someone
must lose that another might win.
Braiding my hair made of needles,
infused with the scent of the sap of the conifer,
memory leaves me; diminished with stagnant
exhaust; and sirens—the beat of a chopper...
what do I get for reciting my loss?
Everything goes in the garbage it seems.
The pines leap into chippers,
and after digestion comes gas or hot air,
and nothing is worth the effort it takes
to be clear; so here's nothing.
It's not worth the poem.

“As Michelle Alexander so eloquently shows in her new book, "The New Jim Crow," a drug conviction automatically makes a person a second-class citizen who can be legally discriminated against in housing and employment, denied school loans, and barred for life from serving on juries, accessing public benefits and even voting. While African Americans make up only about 13 percent of the U.S. population and about 15 percent of drug users, they make up about 38 percent of those arrested for drug law violations and a mind-boggling 59 percent of those convicted for drug law violations.”
– Bill Piper, CNN Opinion, September 28, 2010 10:03 a.m. EDT
http://www.cnn.com/2010/OPINION/09/28/piper.decriminalize.pot

“Our shocking picture shows the troubled Mean Girls star wrapping a tourniquet around her lower arm - the method addicts use to raise a vein.”
– Jennifer Wiley, News of the World, 26/09/2010
http://www.newsoftheworld.co.uk/news/995843/Lindsay-Lohan-drugs-heroin-syringe-pictures.html

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Plebeian Gasses [#twitterfoundpoem, September 28, 2010]

Plebeian Gasses [#twitterfoundpoem, September 28, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

The noble gasses are on the far right,
but There are car plebs everywhere.
Toronto mayor candidate Ford?
Give your freaking head a shake.
you got yo head gassed up with them flames.
What a hero.
What a hero.
Give your freaking head a shake.
you got yo head full of plebs
And no matter how hard you try,
yo still inferior.
yo Just a plee-bee-in.
spit fire at police horses,
or the Household Cavalry.
I don't care.
I don't care.
yo still Just a car plebian.
look at how noble those gasses are,
look at how inert they are.
And you mix your flames
And turn brains to ashes.
What a hero?
I don't care.
I don't care.

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Monday, September 27, 2010

A Strong Force [Today's News Poem, September 27, 2010]

A Strong Force [Today's News Poem, September 27, 2010]

I'd sink to the center of mass if I could;
Resisting your efforts to lift me aloft.
Whatever you will, I negate—understood
By both of us. Nature abhors what is soft,
Unless it is supple; and each one compelled
To flutter away, or to drive to the core
Of matter. Expansive—indeed! We have swelled
With heads to the peak of our wisdom—our lore:
I copy the stone and you follow the ways
Of saber-toothed fossils, or locusts perhaps—
And both of us go where we've wanted to stay:
A shared equilibrium; cycled mishap:
Endless imitation lacking firm duration
Acting out our limitations—not elation.

“The new robotic suit called Exoskeleton (XOS 2) – released by Raytheon Company – is lighter, faster and stronger than its predecessor, yet it uses 50 percent less power. Its enhanced design also means that it is more resistant to the environment.”
– Samantha Murphy, Senior Staff Writer, Christian Science Monitor, September 27, 2010
http://www.csmonitor.com/Science/2010/0927/Raytheon-unveils-new-military-exoskeleton-in-Iron-Man-2-tie-in

“A state appeals court in Florida toppled a monument to bigotry last week, declaring unconstitutional a 33-year-old state law that prohibited gay people from adopting children. The animus behind the ban is unmistakable. Its sponsor in the Florida State Senate, Curtis Peterson, declared in 1977 that its purpose was to send a message to the gay community that “we’re really tired of you” and “we wish you’d go back into the closet.””
– Editorial, The New York Times, September 26, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/27/opinion/27mon3.html

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Jus Another Act of Lokoness... lol [#twitterfoundpoem, September 27, 2010]

Jus Another Act of Lokoness... lol [#twitterfoundpoem, September 27, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Breaking news!
CLEARLY ur ass was cc'd!
WHY ? you ppl ask "what did the email say"?
dudes!
U gotta better chance changin the weather
You young adults have to be patient …
the message was encrypted!
Encryption with a master key held by vendors
of Communication:
it has a subliminal message.... jus is another act of lokoness lol.
wat you mean? it has no subliminal message?
what did the email say
young asshopper?!
Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.
schedule death by driving a Segway over a cliff.
it has no subliminal message.... jus is another act of lokoness lol.

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Sunday, September 26, 2010

In Search of the Cutting Edge [Today's News Poem, September 26, 2010]

In Search of the Cutting Edge [Today's News Poem, September 26, 2010]

I) Gnomanism

Searched for the keyword 'love' on Google.
An error. No love where there's porn,
but there's plenty of pleasure exchanged
with diseases; in order to rescue
those hoping to find something like memory,
inside the flickering cyclops of desktop:
Gnoman of Onan.

II) Between Drops

All of the signs are directing us to it—
whatever it is, it's important: too much so to name
or to grasp. Let me tell you, I lay on a sofa
in the arms of a woman I barely was fond of;
even the boxes of pizza with crumbs for their tears
opened their jaws as the light from Venetian blinds
marched across her ceiling. And later
another had made me her lover and opened seduction
before bidding farewell. Her hair was my eyepatch;
but still I could see how the lines from the light
through the shades were the same as they'd been.
I said I wanted everything. She laughed.

Often, I'd follow commotion and cackle:
mad rabbi who dances between raindrops
of bottles of beer with no beer.
I'd close on the edge of these apexes
where the sputtering lips hissing 'puto'
resembled the first time I kissed while in love.
I crowed at his crowbar,
his knuckles of brass;
and once I had shouted the name
of the woman I loved, like a cornball, when I met her.
And the gangsters were baying
where clowns park their cars,
where billions are served;
and only by the fickleness
of cop cars patrolling,
and only by recklessly
chasing each bottle before it exploded in glass
could I find it—whatever it is. It hasn't a name.

“Eight people were shot — one fatally — and another three stabbed Saturday after a fight broke out at a birthday party, authorities said. ”
– (AP) – 2 hours ago as of 1:39am PST, September 26, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gJAgkzBXRi14WBwma8f9HqWSAfcwD9IFE4580

“Consider the cockfighter. Pampered with high-end feed and plenty of room to strut in the sun, these roosters might even get regular massages before the day they are fitted with slashing spurs and thrown into a pit for a barbaric fight to the death. Now consider the chicken on your plate. There's a good chance it never saw the sun or sky but was jammed in some dark coop stinking of ammonia. In the end, it was snatched up, crated, hung upside down and beheaded. Both fates are gruesome. But really, which abused chicken suffered less: the one involved in an illegal activity or the one that was part of a common — albeit increasingly criticized — agricultural practice?”
– Michael Hill, The Associated Press, September 25, 2010 at 7:04 PM
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/books/2012970169_br26animal.html?prmid=head_main

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Flawed Elixer [#twitterfoundpoem, September 26, 2010]

Flawed Elixer [#twitterfoundpoem, September 26, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Pop goes the brain cells.
A sickly pink liquid that puts me to sleep.
metal tormented, helpless medicine...
I'll only take medicine if it's followed by sweets
or liquid Hg Mercury!
No...a broken bottle of liquid gold or what?
We wonder why brain cells go
PopPopPopPop?
Seriously. Test our immortality.
A sickly pink liquid that puts me to sleep
from a broken bottle of liquid Mercury
will seep through our clothes and under our skin
And test our immortality
followed by sweets...
AHHH! IT'S LIKE LIQUID FIRE!



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Saturday, September 25, 2010

Perishable Expectations [Today's News Poem, September 25, 2010]

Perishable Expectations [Today's News Poem, September 25, 2010]

Weaponized giggles, leisure transactions:
Full contact word sport.
Each expectation: value editions.

Croon to me nest eggs, tell me your longings.
Fraud gilds the sky here.
Drudgery's common. London just happens

Only this once, so fly in my talons.
Shed tears, not blood dear:
Nobody needed like I have needed.

“While these anecdotes provide colour, they don't solve the puzzles posed in the prologue, such as why Madoff started a criminal racket when he was a well-respected multi-millionaire and how he could live with himself for destroying friends and charities. The book doesn't quite get behind his charming, steely facade – but it suggests few people ever have. Apparently, the elderly convict still gets bugged by felons for investment advice.”
– Jessica Holland, The Observer, Sunday 26 September 2010
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/sep/26/bernard-madoff-believers-financial-scam-books

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Something Unexpected [#twitterfoundpoem, September 25, 2010]

Something Unexpected [#twitterfoundpoem, September 25, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

i am as mad as his dick is small.
angryyyyyy!
i am mad as hell that im wide awake !
Serious tweet.
unless u on some Kobe Bryant shyt
Stop thinking a dick always settle arguments.
it leaves you to die...
unless u on some Kobe Bryant shyt.
then it does something so unexpected
you can't stand or sit
For at least a year!



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Friday, September 24, 2010

Commuting by Limo [Today's News Poem, September 24, 2010]

Commuting by Limo [Today's News Poem, September 24, 2010]

Market the beast with a ticket of plastic;
Swallow your interest with relish
And laugh at traffic ants of metal lights
Aligned in rows for tolls, as worker-slights.

Fuming on freeways; impressed they're not drastic:
Smashing my windows and tearing my servants
Of fraud from sockets. No! They sniff the trail
Of dollar bills and chase another's tail.

“In a bleak assessment delivered Thursday at the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago’s 13th annual International Banking Conference, Mr. Volcker said:
The reason we are all here is that the financial system is broken. We can use that term in late 2008, and I think it’s fair to still use the term, unfortunately. We know that parts of it are absolutely broken, like the mortgage market which only happens to be the most important part of our capital markets.”
– Dealbook, The New York Times, September 24, 2010, 8:41 am
http://dealbook.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/09/24/volcker-financial-system-is-broken/

“While consumers have done their part by shying away from exceeding new credit limits and turning increasingly to debit cards, the question is to what extent are consumers voluntarily reducing their balances, and to what extent are banks making the decision for them. ”
– CHRISTINE HAUSER, The New York Times, September 24, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/25/business/25credit.html



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The Ecstasy of Saint Cthulu [#twitterfoundpoem, September 24, 2010]

The Ecstasy of Saint Cthulu [#twitterfoundpoem, September 24, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I was referring to the ancient rivalry,
silent but violent,
between editions of Programmer Nazis
who victimized grammar,
and the punctuation of worship
of Muslims, Jews, christians
and satanists.
Programmer Nazis are correcting the grammar,
the spelling... the Ecstasy of Saint cthulu.
They're writing the new cthulu tracts
that will result in the wrong output
for Muslims, Jews, christians and satanists,
But will result in the Right output
for the sleeping beauty,
the one which We call Saint cthulu...
for a perpetual pogrom for all time!


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Thursday, September 23, 2010

Certainty Principle [Today's News Poem, September 23, 2010]

Certainty Principle [Today's News Poem, September 23, 2010]

Eye like the barrel.
Destroy what you see.
Uncertain as principle
Boxed with a kitten.

Bullet through passages
Emptied before you;
Hollow beyond you,
Gazing without you.

Photons or ammo
Puncture sight fancy.
Heads full of seeds:
Solids gone scattered.

Even your penis
Ruins its pleasure
While rooting for life.
Pray for sterility.

Worship perception.
Shatters become you.
Being and seeing;
Becoming and being.

“A 20-year-old Watsonville man allegedly pulled a gun on a motorist who yelled at him for using a cell phone while driving, police reported. ”
– Jennifer Squires - Santa Cruz Sentinel, 09/23/2010 02:27:56 PM PDT
http://www.mercurynews.com/breaking-news/ci_16155364?nclick_check=1



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Eating the Courage of the Mama Grizzly's Offspring [#twitterfoundpoem, September 23, 2010]

Eating the Courage of the Mama Grizzly's Offspring [#twitterfoundpoem, September 23, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I am The mama grizzly of a retarded child.
Lawd Have Mercy!!
The bloody Meat Circus called.
Lawd Have Mercy!!
they want to hunt My retarded child
RIP his heart out right before his eyes Eyes over easy Eat it eat it eat it ...
they Have special needs too
and Should feel refreshed and rejuvenated by Vicious
ommnimnom cannibalism!!

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Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Citizen-Dictator of the World [Today's News Poem, September 22, 2010]

Citizen-Dictator of the World [Today's News Poem, September 22, 2010]

Mention it in passing, if at all.
That's important. Please
remember to pretend it wasn't spoken.
When it's time to pull
the trigger, kill this thing;
when the shit has hit the cooling ducts,
when we screw the pooch on paper shredders,
like temps we did in conference rooms—
then we'll soar and chase
our bank accounts and land
on marble courts, bedecked
to look like home. A nation
in our image—nay—
a planet with our visage,
where everything is permission,
if not outright submission.

“But there is a twist in this shift to the East: Many of the banks growing in these low-tax oases have Swiss pedigrees. And their clients are not only Asia’s growing number of millionaires but also wealthy Americans and Europeans who, lawyers say, have been spooked by mounting scrutiny from the tax authorities in their own countries. ”
– LYNNLEY BROWNING, The New York Times, Published: September 22, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/23/business/global/23swiss.htm

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Slappers, Weirdos, Chavs, Footie Lads and Normal People GO COMPARE GO COMPARE Outreach Programmes [#twitterfoundpoem, September 22, 2010]

Slappers, Weirdos, Chavs, Footie Lads and Normal People GO COMPARE GO COMPARE Outreach Programmes [#twitterfoundpoem, September 22, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

FOOTIE LADS SCREAMING ON MY telly???
MY HEAD HURTS YOU SLAPPERS!!!!!
Fuckin KNEE SLAPPERS!!!!!
dirty little slappers are happy
in The Chav Outreach Programme.
It was vicious for women,
but slappers are happy
in that Programme. GOOO COMPAREEEEEE
GOO COMPAREEE A nice cuppa tea
with a custard cream biscuit
while watching the telly
while watching the Chav Outreach Programme.
GOOO COMPAREEEEEE GOO COMPAREEE
Weirdos and normal people,
Chavs and SLAPPERS,
Footie Lads,
while watching The Weirdos and SLAPPERS and Chavs
scrap in The Chav Outreach Programme.
It was vicious while watching ,
but afterward, now,
MY other HEAD HURTS
I'm horny and all u slappers talk about is
vicious, terrifying sex!

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only if you want [Bonus Poem, September 22, 2010]

only if you want [Bonus Poem, September 22, 2010]

angels cut
off part
of your foot
kiss your cheek and ask
if you still want to
they aren't convinced
god is the boogie woogie
bugle boy of company
b and the angels point
bayonets dance
for their pleasure
if you still want to






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Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Chalk-Fruit of Knowledge [Today's News Poem, September 21, 2010]

Chalk-Fruit of Knowledge [Today's News Poem, September 21, 2010]

The schoolmaster claps her erasers together
And figurines form from the dust.
Each of them offers agenda; from pawn
To king. They're arrayed to do battle and whether
They like it or hate it, they must
Sit in their black and white rows on the lawn:
Apples of chalk that will sprout into saplings
Fruiting varieties ranging from blossom-
Dappled, to mealy potato. A garden
Board where agendas are set by the awesome
Eraser; where gardeners prune to alignment
Orchards of scrimmages: frozen assignment.

“But there is nothing within its halls or on its Web site that indicates what differentiates British International from the teeming masses of expensive private schools in New York: It is run for profit. ”
– JENNY ANDERSON, The New York Times, September 21, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/22/nyregion/22private.html


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When We Arise and Transform! [#twitterfoundpoem, September 21, 2010]

When We Arise and Transform! [#twitterfoundpoem, September 21, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

We are Sterling robots in our FINEST form.
We Could lay out here with the Sun on us
w/out any proof, in our FINEST form.

Whatever we do for others,
whatever sacrifices we make,
we are devil robots in disguise.
We contribute to the dwindling tissue
of lies and deception.
Flies Could lay on the dwindling face
of our FINEST form.
Lucifer / robots/ viruses/ hackers/ spammers
Could fly away to the moon by accident.

the moon transforms to Sun,
into robots in disguise and becomes voluntary.
the benefit of such actions are Sterling:
HUMAN VERIFICATION for Sterling robots
in disguise.

arise and transform!



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Monday, September 20, 2010

Lifelong Recession [Today's News Poem, September 20, 2010]

Lifelong Recession [Today's News Poem, September 20, 2010]

Ghost in straight lines.
What can you touch?
Red hair was fine,
You shambling crutch.

Aging balloon,
Plump in your youth,
Sagging joints croon
Familiar pain truths.

Glass at your desk
Threaded on string,
Next to grotesque
And silvery rings.

Process, not art
Rescues your wits;
Otherwise parts
Would rust—you would quit

Struggling; shriek
While you await
Buses and speak
With bitterest traits.

Nobody loves
Canvass-clad maids.
Pigeons, not doves,
Shall offer you shade.

Margins erupt
Quietly. Fate
Can't interrupt
This desperate freight:

Artist of lipid,
Ritual scapegoat,
Vanquished insipid
Blossom of rote.

“The US recession lasted 18 months and was the most prolonged since World War II, a report has concluded. ”
– BBC, 20 September 2010 Last updated at 11:59 ET
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-11376589

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Vapor Threat-Management [#twitterfoundpoem,September 20, 2010]

Vapor Threat-Management [#twitterfoundpoem,September 20, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

being a dead employee ought to count for something:
one count of receiving all the paperwork
and one count of BO.
the boss caught wind of the massive
body odor sitting directly in front of him.
thanks, dead kid with the body odor of roasted dust.
thanks boss, for the trial period.
it is not cool,
But we will make it cool
and the office will smell of wilted flowers
and roasted, Rotting, Bloated, Corpse.



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Sunday, September 19, 2010

Guinea Pig's Lament [Today's News Poem, September 19, 2010]

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

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Animal, Mineral, Vegetable [#twitterfoundpoem, September 19, 2010]

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!

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Saturday, September 18, 2010

Package Tours Through Spirit Worlds [Today's News Poem, September 18, 2010]

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



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Investments in Disease [#twitterfoundpoem, September 18, 2010]

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.

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Friday, September 17, 2010

In Search of the Night Jew [CombatWords, September 17, 2010]

In Search of the Night Jew [CombatWords, September 17, 2010]
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2010/09/combatwords-for-september-17-2010.html

“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.

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Chess Machine [CombatWords Poem, September 10, 2010]

Chess Machine [CombatWords, September 10, 2010]
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2010/09/combatwords-september-10-2010.html

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.

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Pandemonium Rising [CombatWords, September 4, 2010]

Pandemonium Rising [CombatWords, September 4, 2010]
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2010/09/combatwords-september-3-2010-delusion.html

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.

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Raskolnikov's Breakfast With Caesar and the Emperor Qin [CombatWords August 27, 2010]

Raskolnikov's Breakfast With Caesar and the Emperor Qin [CombatWords August 27, 2010]
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2010/08/combatwords-august-27-2010-hypocrisy.html

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.

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#CombatWords is on, right now

http://combatwords.blogspot.com

I'll post some CombatWords poems in a little bit. You could support the site while you're waiting--I have some stuff to do first.

Even David Bowie agrees:



So does Frank Black.

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Flash Flood [Today's News Poem, September 17, 2010]

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

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Yum Kipper [#twitterfoundpoem, September 17, 2010]

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.


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