AT ROME
they look back
longingly at Rome
whose triremes ruled
the Mediterranean
whose legions kept
control over
much of the
known world
whose slaves rebelled
and were crucified
along the entire
length
of the Appian Way
by the monstrously
rich General, Marcus Crassus
who would come to
be captured by the Parthians
and fed molten gold
DEAD DOG
Truth is a
dead dog
let it rot, let
it putrefact
let it smell
let
it stink
don’t let them bury it
hide or celebrate
the fact
it is dead
with their complicity
by their agency
don’t let them cover
it will concrete or
a brass plaque
build a mausoleum
a cenotaph
the mother
of all monuments
give speeches in its
praise, celebrate its
former life
for if truth is dead
there are no lies
no duplicity
no hypocrisy.
so
dead or not let
them not
bury truth
let it lie where they slew it
let it stink.
DRAGON
year of the Dragon, sign
of Aquarius
my robot took me out
fishing for nebulae
being a sort-of poet
I will sort-of try to convince
you we did
not return home unlucky
the fish that we caught
though lacking old sci fi fins
pleaded to
be returned to the cosmos
in pure mathematics
and songs, such sad songs,
that took us through
all the universally audible
and inaudible harmonies
such strange
outlandish scales, she commented
as she and I
calculated what to do
with such a freshly caught
specimen of piscean
intangibility
year of the Dragon, sign
of Aquarius
we added
a new phenomenon
to our expanding collection
MAS no more poems of love only poems of pain, grief, rage controlled hatred maybe no more poems at all who has time for poetry when our world is split, divided, blockaded from truth and vital energy? pray that this humble non-descript pièce of scrawl is not the last poem if it be the poem penultimate let the last poem be a great restorative epic restore our faith and love and desire to embrace all of humankind
ASHES AND RUINS ashes and ruins so much to plant now space to build but do not worry the desert will bloom again blood red flowers sprouting out of the savage sand (it is part of the plan)
TECHNICALLY SPEAKING Let the suit speak the brain it hosts not up to the job so swaddled, entirely clothy has taken a sheet and set sail so let the suit speak the brain sail off into the distance where it might be allowed to think its own thoughts speak out of turn.
OWNED here in this city where the great founders are buried lies a tomb with flowers a physician lies here a healer, curer of diseases, all human ills pity the disease he could not cure, a sickness that has spread like wildfire infected all in this region was the sickness that owned him that drove him led to his death and burial here out of the light, in this revered resting place
FALL when the mighty fall into abject stupidity what hope is there for everyday people? whose only sin is to vote idiocy into power again and again to the delight of us all
RAW this war is raw it is tartare it is war that needs to smash everything slosh blood everywhere forget tactical principle it has other points to prove it is war where the bloodshed needs to be bathed in be tasted how otherwise will its glory be revered by all?
TROLL IN MY LIVING ROOM Came across a troll in my living room there on my laptop on every phone bashing a big drum like those cave trolls in an orc army not a beat to ever dance to unless you have flat, fat feet.
poems 2 die for