Bread for the circus

More wine, red wine
and roses thrown near soiled feet
Pleasures, please, configure yourselves
To entertain; to distract
Provide a veil from this
insane carousel of pitiable nonsense
the interminable passing of days
Each minute detail horrifying and
blindingly nostalgic
Forgive the priestly man his collar
The loose woman her undergarment
Suffer the children their ignorance
so that one day we may join them
so that all the books will be unwritten
so that time itself will unwind
so that we may remember what it is
to forget the structures that have made us
feel superiority and levity toward the lower class

We'll have loaves for the tumbling juggler
Tins of stale fruit for the mirage, as
the ringleader's flesh is torn from his breast
And the crowd applauds his adage

Kuhnilingus

I have dreams about mutilated genitals
Never in the pursuit of shock-value
It's nonchalant, no caveat for the horror
Splendid, then, take the blade to your gender
Your preconceived notions are boiled down
Less simple than sin, more problematic than ethics
Beyond good and evil, there is one truth:
We are defined by what dangles between our legs
And more specifically, the length of the dangle
For each interaction, we agree on a silent pact
The contract of the differential
The self-winding chronicle
That congests the airwaves, Miller Lite commercials
Or the way you walk past certain genders
Whether your eyes linger, whether they quickly avert
And whether you'll admit to either action
The problem resides in more than halted impulse
It's the very essence of our being
Drawing constant distinctions for survival
That necessitates, on occasion, we draw far too many
And end up in the post-aborted, Chaz Bono world
of feigned partiality and before/after pictorials
What does gender mean?
Basically: nothing
What does gender mean to us?
Unfortunately: everything

Zed Neutrinos

In the face of apathy
Tyrants yawn and turn to take a nap
In the face of apathy
Economies simmer and foster bread-crust revolutions
In the face of apathy
Tensions breed ill-fed rivalries
In the face of apathy
No one marks your race or ethnicity
In the face of apathy
Nothing's done, no ideals destroyed
In the face of apathy
We're all bursting with joy
And latent madness
In the face of apathy
All that can be set right
Is left in its place, its
proper dimension

They call us the generation of
Twitter; iPhone oracles who were
teethed with circuit-boards and
trending topics

I say envy bleeds more than green
When the ones doing the weaning
Nearly sputter over debt-ceilings
And point chewed nails past Nesquik fences
To their off-springs' empty nests

Well, good-bye boomers
Good-bye touch of gray
Good-bye ulterior motives
Good-bye to stunted, half-crippled
Chivalrous decay

Hoover Villa

I asked for cold, uncaring chaos
At a whim from the differential
They gave me agave nectar and brittle
Crackers sopped in whale-sperm
Like the carnage of Dunkirk
Spilled in drips across their faces
Pacific tidings drew a vial
On the doors in Earthen chalks
Blackberry stains in metric doses
Vile chanting in shapes untenable
For the shadow proclamation, demons swirl
Hellenization, a Greco-Roman fetish creed

This is the sin of birthers and boomers
Latin twists and mental snaps
Into the arbitrary ballet of contemporary
gore, your stolen planet bathed in linseed
Pine-sol curators mop chaffed elbows
Cocoa Butter in place of maddened shame
All Crimea, Black, Deadened seas
Scrolls up to the knee in historicity
Patterns abound in futures forever sealed
And the weal of the veld dissolves

I'm the king of hallowed hills
Hellish halls built in Grieg's image
And when Wagner stops his insane stroll
Through Weimar pustules, inflammatory jingoism
Each Aryan knee will bend in tune
A coda, a half-note, and a lukewarm spitoon
Ay, there was a promise once
No more preachers, no more justice
Coincidence brushed with a love for fate
We forgot the vows of holy writ
Grape extract distilled in little flasks
Pan's flute smashed, buried in bricks of hash
I see no more
and good for that
Sight's better for the blind
When the world's in boiling water

Death of Just Us

Damned fool, that boorish Dane
Who first said that to live was in the leaping
Cruel, jesting faces glued to the linings of sheet-rock
I spill out of walls, intangibly repressed
Fear and trembling, love and loathing
Warbler's tune holds the siren's throne
Past my tragus, inner-ear folds
Sinner's call of condemnation
He shrieks through bitter weeps
That all the fruits we held:
Impassioned labor and the bourgeois need for blood-sport
Tumbled down in crystalline nodes
Fanciful concepts, cast-iron Chimeras

It's always silent in the library
I squint towards the mystifying dome
Offices abandoned in the heat
Moldy tomes strewn about
Like so much rubbish in the
fissures between ourselves

Davis slipped through
While we clutched at granules
of flax-seed faith, Uncle Sam's stock
of Vitamin B, and never again
will there be deficiency
Inject our serum on our soil and
You'll live forever

Georgia kept its word