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    Sunday
    Aug262012

    Poems II

    Do you think there'll be no day again?
    The kid watched him.  Will it not stop? he said.
    It will not.

                                         -Some dialouge from Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy,

     

    This first poem is dedicated to George W. Bush.

    Bad little monkeys
    Go to Monkey Hell
    Where instead of fresh bananas
    They’re fed tiny yellow pills. 

    In Monkey Hell there are no trees
    The monkeys live in cages.
    Fluorescent lights, shine all night
    Which drives the monkeys crazy.

    Minions in white lab coats
    Shave your monkey balls
    And attach to them electrodes
    Then apply the shock and awe.

    Then they shave your monkey ass
    They hold you down, you see.
    And all this really turns them on
    As they begin to spank the monkey.

    This torture lasts all day and night
    Into eternity.
    Monkey see and monkey do
    As well as hear and speak.

    So shut down your business and get off the bed
    Repent your monkey sins.
    It’s the only way to save your soul
    And enter Monkey Heaven. 

     

    On a far away planet
    Lives a species
    That looks like you and me.
    But they reside underground
    And slave for their Queen
    Like ants in an ant colony.

    The Queen is a woman
    As big as a mountain
    And she eats all the live long day.
    When her servants explain
    That the people are hungry
    She replies, “Let them eat cake.”

    This bitch of a Queen
    Runs the machine
    Upon which all of her subjects rely.
    For only in she
    Can men plant their seeds
    So that they may multiply.

    So she eats and fucks
    And fucks and eats
    Much like some women I know.
    And because her mouth and her pussy
    Are always quite busy
    Babies are born from her asshole.
    Yes, babies are born from her asshole. 

     

    There once was a man from Nantucket
    One day he kicked the…fuck it.

     

    Some people live
    In a world of dreams
    Where their actions cause others no harm.
    They have interface faiths
    Resources to waste
    And pay taxes like good little pawns.

    They smile fake smiles
    And speak not the truth
    To make themselves look good
    For me and for you.
    But at the end of the day
    They’re wasting away
    Despite all of the shit they consume.

    Despite all of the things
    That they see on T.V
    Despite their wardrobes, their friends, and their cars
    They feel empty inside
    And lonely at night
    As the nightmare resumes in their heart.

     

    I once beat the shit
    Out of my shit
    And the whole thing disappeared.
    Believe it or not
    I miss it a lot
    And instead of shit now I shit tears.
    So stay on top of your shit
    And don’t mistreat it
    Or else it will forever be gone.
    As the old saying goes
    Each man's shit is his own
    And some shit is better than none.
    So help spread the word
    That each sacred turd
    Is a melodious ode from the ass
    As Mozart would say
    Each shit is holy
    And holy shit’s purer than gas.

     

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