Like a movie set
A facade
Where Beaver and Wally
Dance with broom sticks
Preparing
To woo the girl of their dreams
All the whilefangs glissen like fine ivory,
June Cleaver’s fangs
Glisten
Like fine ivory
Preparing school lunches
Layered in false promises
And unending night

On this stage
Actors
Stick figures
Cardboard cutouts
Speaking monosyllabic
Affirmations
To Baal
The ending
Always
Ordained

Why read the book?

The court room was bright and hot
Lit by the fire of revulsion
Heated by the passion of hatred

The two judges’ left and right testicle
Sat aloof, condescending
As they gazed at the gathering of pricks

The prosecutor stood erect, engorged, stiff and unyielding
He approached the accused
“Speak your name penis!”
The accused by contrast was small, withered, and flaccid
When he looked up there was a calm dignity in his tiny penis eyes
“I am the loving penis”

The court room erupted in stiff penisatic rage
“Your honors his very words condemn him!”
The prick turned to the loving penis
“You are anathema, you defy our very nature”
Your job is to perform and shoot your seed”
“Love is alien to our kind”
The pricks cheered at the prick’s accusations
The two testicles banged their gavels for order
“His words condemn him the sentence is castration”
“But he has the right to speak his last words”

“The loving penis spoke, though gentle and soft spoken his words boomed across the court room
“I can not change my nature; I can not perform without love, caring, sharing or passion.”
“I am part of a complex whole; I cement the bond of love between Man and Woman”
“It is through me Man and Woman become whole, one, divine, they become part of the eternal.”

The judges knew they could no longer hold back the prick’s rage
The loving penis tiny head was placed upon the castration guillotine
And as the blade of death began its downward descent
The loving penis looked up and spoke his last words

“I rather die for love then live for pleasure”

As his flaccid head rolled across the floor most of the pricks laughed
But a few looked confused, thoughtful
The court room cleared
And the story ends.

Time flows like monstrous tendrils
Clutching at him
He fights them off
They don’t stop
Clutching, grabbing, seeking…
His arms wave incessantly
Even when

He lies down
closes his eyes
But I know
They never stop seeing
His spittle marries the cold concrete cell floor
Human comfort an alien thought
He is somewhere else
Always

Some ignore him
Most laugh
I can’t
Colors roll off him
Mourner’s Black
Blood Red
And blues
Blues from a sky I have never seen
Greens from fields only Gods can trek

They come for him
Take him wherever they take madmen
Plugged into a machine somewhere
Talking to aliens
Selling stock futures

The cell settles into drab gray
And dreary sameness
fuck stories and jail terms
But
No madman…

Invisible tentacles
Push away the sky
Demonic hoards work gravity machines
And archaic machinery
Fueled by lust and burning souls
Faces replaced by black hearts
Not deigning to beat
Flying Iridescent insects wingless
Fall
Deeper Into the chasm

The insatiable void
Devours screams into silence
Just below the slow lurching rhythm
Of organic cogs pleading
For release…
Pleading to the supreme muscle
That will never cease.

The mechanisms of the hole
Have all become visible.
Each mask of flesh
And tissue has dissolved…
The pretense of all human issues
Has been resolved
With the clarity of a single glance
Inward–
Into the eye of raw primordial reality.

Eerie calm
Amidst the howling silence
Essence distilled
Granulated
Awaiting deployment
Shape Shifting shadows
With wands made of clouds
And abandoned bones
Prepare incantations
Ectoplasmic scripts float upward
Nucleotides seeking union amidst the pulsating mass
The Hole prepares for birth

All possible data
Has been collected
The embryo
Weathered by caustic evil
Intentionally unprotected
Emits a siren’s blaring cry
Of living…
Of living…
The initial sign
Of human life unforgiving.

She was the Mailman’s fake smile
The school children’s skipping steps
The knowing smile of false traffic



She was the hum of summer lawn mowers
The incandescent laugh of young lovers
The foolish pride of suit wearing wannabes



She howled at my weakness
Assaulted me with Hollywood smiles
And soul eating love words



Holiday picnics played and measured my creeping steps
Balloons painted the phony sky
Fireworks snapped and crackled
Me
To the ground



I crawled up yesterday’s steps



The world
Regarded me
Like decayed vermin



A mouse better off dead
In the trap



I slammed the door-less room shut
Bleeding sweat



Sanctuary sounding Renfield giggles
In madmen harmony

She appeared before me with condescending laughter



I tried to screamed



But I had no mouth

Ya wanna scream

“Mommy”

But

Mommy ain’t here



Fish faced generic pedestrians
whose idea of a good time
Is a home carpentry project
Approved by Norm himself



They sit behind reinforced
Plexiglas
In air conditioned
Save-way stores
Pleading
For discounts
And
The real deal



The demonic choir
Sing
Johnny Cash
With guitars
Made of human skulls
Stringed with the sinews
Of dead heroes



Big D
Enters
The circle

Wit a
Impeccably coiffured
Elvis Doo

I guess everybody
Loves
The king



“You staying Poet?”

“Don’t think so D
But thanks for
Asking”

“Ya know Your time is coming”

“Decided?

“Up or down?

“Think I might start
My own afterlife D



Big D
Gives me an Elvis
My Way flourish
Swirling his black sequined cape

Getting into that phony

Elvis karate stance.



“Sounds interesting Poet
You always did know how to style
If you need a hand
You know where to find me”

“Cool D”

And I rolled.

Like a dead fish.

Gazing at deep magic

Inside….Out.

Pillars of lust

Smothered

Wrapped in cellophane.

Locked to immoral paths.

Visions in black and white

Against prescribed standards of efficiency.



I peered out of my window

That TV screen whose channel never changes.

And I SEE!

Androids filled with pretended purpose.

Running to and fro toward mock destiny.

I see them harnessed like cattle and led to troughs of offal where they feed.

Smiles fill there vapid faces.



For this was Life!

I see them walk pass fake trees and counterfeit sunlight.

Night nothing more than an unplugged lamp.

They flash their vampire smiles

Teeth gnashing

Hunger’s need temporarily lending false passion to nothingness.

They see me and wave, “join us, and become one of us!”



I am the Last man alive.

I will never let them stick that straw of death into my head

And suck out my passion, love and being.

I will never leave this place

I shall be content to gaze out my window

That TV screen whose channel I can never change.



Tears fill eyes

Pity fills my souls

I am the last soul alive

And I shall never leave my place.

For I will never become one of them.

Crippled dancers

Castrated Lotharios

Mute orators

Were all there

I was a special guest



You see I had the Blues

And the Malt Shop

Is where you simply had to be

When suffering that fatal spiritual malady



I looked around at the collage of failure

A conglomeration of burnt souls

Abandoned in scorched pits of the damned

No amount of tears

Could ever put that fire out.



I moseyed up to the counter

Tit-less porn queens with sewn mouths giving half priced blow jobs

Defrocked priest selling wafers autographed by Jesus himself

An insurance man with his Mothers still beating heart in his bloodied hand

Banging a deal with a used car salesman

Who watched with satisfaction

As his 11 year old daughter pulls a train

with well dressed Turkish sailors

Business looked good



Boys scouts seeking merit badges

Sell crack to nuns

Donning the latest in Fredrick’s of Hollywood

God squad apparel



It was there

all our sins

We just don’t like to face it

We are all responsible

We are all guilty

The truth be a Mother Fucker



I closed my eyes and

Inhaled the filth

Pores opening

In horror and greed

Tendrils of madness

Violated me

became part of me



Don’t worry

Madness don’t scare me none

Been there

Done that.

Bet ya

it scares the shit out of you



What sheltered lives

Most of the pretty people lead

So when you look with envy

At your neighbors weedless

Pristine green lawn

For a second



Just a second



Think of those people

In the Congo

Being hacked to death

With Machetes

It’s real

It’s happening

Now

And if you can get away

Come by the Malt shop

I’ll be there

Got

Plenty

of Room