Tuesday, January 13, 2009



Everything crabs, spending loosely and
Looming largely from bygone incidents at European airports
Flowing into prostitutes saying North Korea
Is a Netflix night of botched bonuses.
And out in their sportscars, dishing for their buffoon suds,
Sexy office coroners, decompressed
Like the renovated cats lapping,
Are arguing all floors, all stores, all original prices
For no good reason.
If Hamas rockets were aimed at your children,
You'd sure save on great gaming.
Atheists add
Those so called "crush videos" are sexually explicit fetish films, usually
Home spun, depicting women dressed up in dominatrix uniforms taking
Pleasure in crushing small animals to pulp.
And I fail to understand the value of avoiding a nuclear war.
Our fall
Is in danger of boozing its credibility.
The B-52 bombers fly nuclear weapons across the continental United States,
Accidently warning of a new wave of nuclear proliferation
If rogue nations are prompted to start their own arms programs
Because of flailing confidence in the governmental structure
Of the United States.
More than 30 countries worldwide are protected by the ability of the
American arsenal to deter and dissuade an attack
If necessary.
And my death was first reported in an increasingly aggressive
Militant campaign reflecting the secrecy of a border stirring anger
Over the policies of a mountainous region.
The missile struck my tribal area, killed last September's deadly
Suicide bombing at a Marriot counterterrorism official.
This past week concludes
Fiery missiles fired from a remotely
Piloted predator who uses the name "Osama Ghoul"
As well as Lieutenant "Terrestrial Figment."
His death confirms there is every reason to believe
That my individual has met the end.
Certainly, it has rising and lethal effects on the cause,
But also clearly acknowledges a surprising resiliency
And a knack for regrouping quickly under new operational commanders.
And for no good reason,
The city without me is an enigma, an unusually capable
Forest for sleeping.
The air is always on death arrival.
Some friends are meeting me at the station, periodicals scout
Locations for hamburger.
During the trance belonging to her vulva, liquids ranch
Huge cocks, the friends remind me of hamburger.
My mind dries up, it shrinks
Like all there is I once felt worth in stating, like all the beliefs
Of a writer sharing his bed.
I spent my life lying to myself.
The cripples beat cancer stricken children with hospital beds.
It's as meaningless as counterculture.
Islam goes green.
She was once my receptionist.
Then the obliteration of a pussy so dear.
Included amongst the ruins
Smokes the cocaine I queef.
Displaced, courageous, and undetected.

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