The Mountain from the Ⓐ
The Robin feeding worms
to the adolescent.
Watching over him from a height
The Mother teaches child
how to Be, on his own.

She shows him food
But does not give freely.
He must travel to the height
and with Her to the depths
To earn the Meat
of Life.

The big angry things sling vocal feces
Fleshy phallus-pumps close at hand, cooing
Guzzle guzzle ethanol
Inebriated petrol-baby
"Smash the atom!"
"We're too late, we're too late!"
Tar (quick) sand sucks
Big angry things drown
"We gotta gotta drill!"
Penetrate the Mother with a steel cock
Oedipus laughs
As the boulder, finally
Crushes Sisyphus.

-   The irate Englishman berates his pupils for losing track of gods.

-   Children of the Corn was originally written by James Frazier.

Use No. 2 pencil only
Make DARK MARKS
Erase completely to change
Directions

FEED THIS CORPORATION
All rights subject
Customer service last

A blade of grass as the smallest tree
Broken glass in the top drawer
To sleep in the dead lake

We have discussed the future
This is the Middle Kingdom
Singing Pharaoh's song, waiting
To build his temple

Or we could head South
Deep into the jungle
Where they are designing the New Bomb

The up-side is literally down
But let's avoid cliches.
Instead, let us mine the uranium
For Pharaoh's undoing.

Ambient acid effects success
Disperse, assimilate, control
Aesthetic wind damages nations
Conventional air is toxin

Kites float to the troposphere
Ozone stability unchained

Orator's manifestos have failed us
Latent content fools men
H-A-A-R-P
Distraction from The Real
Fractured and failing systems, kill off
Manufactured citizens

Gods of emergence survive
Jaded culture-heads walk to death

Faithful science suffocates
Juxtaposed on the annals of reason

Oceans reach the mountaintop, our last safe haven.

Quilts hang, wet on clothesline
More than seven suns pass yet they stay drenched

Hellfire couldn't stop
Storm-clouds in the hearts of an entire species
Brands that singe the arteries of life
From microbes to oceans

Placed on the altar of Earth
Dubious goals led us far away from our homes
Viruses envy our might
Kilowatt-hours rule

Hope is a luxury
for the moneyed
Existence is the art of dying
with style
You wait for rose petals as I
Chew
on the thorns

Ugly fake flower
Mocks my efforts

It won’t laugh in butane
Neither will its owner
As I sputter my story
In syllables

It’s time for chemicals
Fellate the fiberglass
Roll with the punches
Suck, Roll, Suck, Roll

I forget what bacon tastes like already
My shoes have been tied for over a year now
The wallet in my pocket came from a puddle of rain

The microphone hanging to my right
cost me one hundred and twenty five dollars
so I could fill my bedroom’s remaining
empty space

Pissing onto brick
concrete and yellowing grass
Three beers deep
I drag my lifeless mound
of membranes
back inside
forgetting
there's a toilet there..

Noise from these cars
hauling ass melds
together into
a concerto
for commerce

As I listen I can hear
change
fall gently, gently down
from the driver's
pockets
into the street

He said being an asshole
is okay when you're a genius
later emerging as the
soul of corporate culture

As a boy
he was a mongrel dog
forcing schoolmates to kiss
statues' bare buttocks

This child grew into
the man who now
stands before
a sea of toddlers
asking him “what is
The Good?”

God is heard on fifty-thousand
fifty-thousand-Watt stations
every Sunday

He is a female albino corn snake
hissing into a microphone for fifteen
minutes and six seconds

People are raptured
When He spots a rat

Kick down every single door
Opening is for the laymen

Oracles know the secret to this thing
Listen for their voices
Hushed and desperate
Dictating the good news
From the opposite side of the keyhole
May you allow them entry?

Great though these oracles seem
Just a harsh winter wind they be

Only fools hear someone speak outside the door.

Commuters crane necks to see the car crash
Paying the wrong
Attention

• Black squirrel carrying walnuts to her nest, wary of winter's triumph.
  
  - Stephen and John drinking coffee too late to notice it's time for bed.
  
  - Seven-forty, golden skies, power lines intersecting, delivery.
  
  - Going out of business, entire stock fifty percent off, buy more save more.
  
  - Houses are taken from the elderly and they are put in condos.
  
  - R C A cables, seven cents, an iPod wait to be "used" again.
  
  - "Do you still feel thirsty?" the man asks her as they set the table.
  
  - Listening to dub without step is dub at its best, one would believe!
  
  - Impatiently stabbing into the White-Out with a pen yields shit.
  
  - On TV there's a documentary about its own history.

What's to be said about
A culture that commands us
To get rid of our love
handles?