Lust
photo by Soffie Hicks)
A boy stands waiting on the line, Boredom stoutly kept at bay, Her sideways glance could speak a tome If noticed, but he missed and has to see the play. All he has left is the sleep of the just And protocol is honored in the breach, A life fully fit for drowning In silver surf way out beyond the beach. D’ya ever see the film called If? Who knows what the hell it was about But there’s a scene in it where The lads sit around, Turn a girlie magazine inside out; One boy — played by Malcolm McDowell,…
Continue Reading →The Terrorist Impulse
(Governo da Grecia, 1920)
Can I be labeled pious, Or a martyr, or a missionary, Naive or just a fool, If I cavil at the doings of a group of fat brigands? Hoeing into goat at table, Wiping mouths that dribble claret, Hawking, grasping, clamoring, Not washing their hands? Does the innocent observer Fall into the snare, enjoying feelings of contempt and loathing, Wallowing in smugness, Desperate to impose his disapproval and disgust? Yes, enraged by the indifference Of the gobbling hedonistic toughs Who fail to heed the warning smoulder, he must. One must.
Continue Reading →Killing Witches
The twelve women confessed of course, a multitude of sins; They had not bled at all it seemed, when pricked with little pins; According to the documents they murdered little boys; Summoned forth the West Wind to make a fearful noise; Drank the blood of livestock which they had contrived to kill… Burned the holy wooden cross stood upon the hill. Crops they cursed and ravaged; with the Devil they did dance And made young couples barren by potions from their plants. The Court was packed so tightly that some people had to stand; Every second day or so a…
Continue Reading →When We Buried the Gods
Epicurus asks what God's good for
When silent starlight rains upon the midnight of thy face But thy heart contains no vestige of belief, The fires of a million stars vanish without trace, In the gloom, the grant of unction lacks relief. Would thou have a life in which thy faith did have no part? Where damaged vitals strove for every breath? Where demons stalked throughout the empty chambers of your heart And thy soul throbbed as a vulture robbed of death?
Continue Reading →The Ballad of the “Angry Penguin”
(photo by Paul Ensign)
The Bollinger missionaries and arboreal grubs, Inhabitors of dam sites and oafs from hiking clubs All packed into the Angry Penguin as it prepared to sail, It did so with a mighty swell that, sadly, beached a whale. Ho, the Angry Penguin was turned out like a pin, It glistened as it cut the water’s surface like a fin, The captain was a dedicated, heavy drinking salt And if the ship reached its destination, `t’wouldn’t be his fault. Languages abound and irk the crew, as does the lice But luckily there’s ready packs of snow to break the ice, Two…
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