Monthly Archives: November 2007

You Old Bastard (Water Torture)

The harder you
squeeze
the slipperier it
gets

Taoist bullshit
told exactly
as it is

I believe in the
ego
even though it doesn’t
exist

Who held the sack up
and found nothing?

You did

You old bastard
choking on dirt
and air

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(untitled)

I snapped her shadow pensive
against the bedroom wall
as the prehistoric bird swooped in
snapping croaking

she could no longer stand
and I could no longer hold my arms
up against the light

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High Steaks

you almost fall out of your chair
as we try to bake eggs

where do we put them?
you ask
above or below the meat?

I reply:
which cow laid these eggs?

these eggs,
you moan through squinty eyes
they are SO baked

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The Pumpkin Puking on the Porch

The pumpkin puking on the porch
looks miserable and deathly soft

He wallows in a mess of pulp
populated by seeds that gleam a steady pearl cream
in the moonlight

***

The pumpkin talks in a soft croak:
“There is no such thing as a political poem”

You bend over to listen
as the wind picks up

“Political poems are for puking pumpkins-
just listen to the bush”

The bush in front of you bustles

***

Warrrryarrryarrryarrrarrrr!

The pumpkin pukes
seeds and pale orange fiber
in the moonlight

Swwwwwwwweeeeeeeetewwwwwewww

The bush bustles

***

Inside the house:
news

Outside
in the moonlight:

bustling bushes and puking pumpkins

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