Stephen Miller Meets Adolph Hitler on the Tarmac at a Tesla Dealership

 

Ask the man

falling from a high building

whether gravity is a matter of opinion.

The ground will be

explaining things

shortly.

There are those,

bedecked with self-awarded

ribbons, who sculpt

with a hammer

and operate (on others only)

with a saw

and call it Vision.

Sipping from 

half-filled goblets

gilded with a fur of mold,

their soapy smiles house parrot tongues,

moonstruck by 

a slug in wolf's clothing.

Crows laugh

at windmills, and 

nobody is eating the pets.

Fearful shills leave poisoned sugar out for each other

and force feed it to everyone

but no hourglass

fills upward.

Ask the man

falling from a high building

whether gravity is a matter of opinion.

The ground will be

explaining things

with impactful clarity

presently.

________

I hate most topical poetry and almost never write it, but something came over me. For Word Garden Word List--Calling a Wolf a Wolf. 

Music: Emerson, Lake & Palmer Carn Evil #9

What I Did Instead

 

Swans came to me 

as they frequently have,

in flocks like nuns

and in nightmares

rising from lilies pressed

in the pages of a bible.

"You must forgive," they said,

"to turn dust to bread."

Wearing a black masquerade

mask, the nearest said,

"You will feel better." So I shot it

and immediately did. 

A crowd cursed me and called

me a devil. They kissed the swans,

held them like bouquets,

offering them to me like scripture.

Now, I carry a thorny rose in my teeth

and wrap the vines around the beaks

of every talking bird I meet. 

I eat my black bread with red jam,

my face a volcano, my heart a ringing forge.

_________

for desperatepoets "wrestling angels". 

image: unknown artist, found on Pinterest. 

Music: The Animals It's My Life

The Angry Damned

On a blue sea beneath a pearl sky, 

time's drunken messenger carved a name on the side

of the shell in which he was born.

At the prow, a maw appeared,

and began to tear at and consume the sea-mother

from whose vomit they had risen.

In the stern, various gods

enormous of mouth, globular, gelatinous,

wounded each other avidly.

On a blue sea beneath a pearl sky,

the angry damned carried this obscene craft on their hands,

filmed with pitch and gasoline.

Cretinous sailors with disappearing arms

composed semaphore hymns sung by trapped demons

who drowned tangled in blind flags.

The angry damned

consumed in flame!

Sea on fire!

Blood immolation!

Worlds cracking, erupting,

lava herds of the diseased damned plunging headlong

into further misery.

Miasma of sick flotillas expanding, gaseous, unwholesome

into the scaled palms

of the shrieking, angry damned

leading each other by sharp hooks through the brain

down into hard pressure depths

where transparent monsters wave phosphorescent pennants

and say, through needle teeth,

Behold, I am the sun, the light, come unto me,

and they rush in, like vermin to a corpse.

_________

with thanks to Arthur Rimbaud, Stephen Crane and Allen Ginsberg. This is either an homage or a rip-off, depending on what you think.

for Sunday Muse #167.

Blogger absolutely would NOT let me fix the spacing at the beginning. It is not meant to have the extra spaces there. 

Satisfaction

I'd like to borrow your senses,
sight and smell.
What is coffee, or a kiss
by the time you're done with it?

My darling hyena, short of ass but blessed in jaw,
it's hard to tell what sex you are,
except for your feminine tendency
to make docile grass-eaters think they ran right into your maw.

Oh how we laughed over that, until, honey,
you noticed I have no spots, but brought the pride on every side.
_____

"Curiosity killed the cat. Satisfaction brought her back."

For Kerry's mini-challenge at Real Toads.

Image from weheartit.com