Floewtry

Traditional to abstract
quality to garbage
spans a fair range
now I seek to enlarge it
I've had times when the rhyme
simply drips off my fingers
seek to reproduce it
but the effect never lingers
It's a game that I play
although I don't know the rules
so if I ever scored a goal
I'd have to take it from the fools
I'd only seek to rule with a benevolent hand
I got a mad sinister streak though
So I'll put my efforts to the land
To disband the agitators
with word and deed
try to flew how I jaw
cause it's not a bad creed
plant a seed fence it off
tend it let it grow
and you can put your care out there
but you never know
the tribulations of this life can bring a storm out
a pest invasion or a dread drought
no matter what you plant
or how big a wall you've erected
it'll never be enough to entirely protect it
so learn to hang on tightly
and let go lightly
when you've got to give it up
don't make the scene unsightly
do right be bright
when the time comes to leave
do it quite and without a fuss
grant yourself that reprieve
went from noetry to floewtry
constantly anonymous
but I could still get big
like a fucking hippopotamus

Brittle little champions
God-heads of Dis
And foundation of the scoundrel
What perversity is gentle hope
and such relief in disappointment
What temptation is prejudice
and such relief in indulgence
What demand is strength
and such freedom in weakness
How I adore the miserably ignorant cringing in the light
How tiring the omniscient smugness and cynicism replete in every glance
How wise are these sculpted words
lackluster simulacra of wild thought
And tame hand
The beauty of a photograph of a beauty un-replicable

A picture of a picture of this painting
of our sunset

Discount Empire

Tepid tribulations and a bag of retail therapy
My soul saw the disparity
Emerge with obscure clarity
And the perverseness of my charity
Made us a gentle rarity
Unfold over untold stretches
Show what prizes popularity fetches
From wretches brought under thumb
I'll grind 'em up like chewing gum
To find the sum total of our sorrow
Survivable today
May be a death sentence tomorrow

The New Malcontent

Backwoods bombardier
horribly relevant details of no significance
and a queer idea
spreads the new fear
patent pending instinct bending insane new drugs
(Go longer, fuck harder, between refills, it even walks your retarded pets,
swallow enough and you'll die so no regrets)
blemished fetishes and half-rhyming
psycho-semantic addicts (slavery to the needle pricks)
ride a one eyed walrus straight to hell
settle in a kaleidoscopic hermit crab shell
bubonic tonic and two tonnes of wayward shades
form the morbid corpus of our decadent parades
all hail the victorious dead and the dread tele-screens
(the ones that they embedded at the base of our latrines)
regulating fiends as a 12 gauge disciple
In the body politik
Who's our shoulder for the rifle?
Who's the trigger and the finger,
And who the fuck are we shootin'?
The have nots who wanted some
So we scud 'em in the lootin'
Our fabulous new product!
Try it now!
You'll never have to try again!
I'll pour out your soul so just say when