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Once I was a spore
Sought the ***** and was accepted
Millions of my fellow spores
Did not and was washed out as junk
A residue of no value
I won the highest prize without trying
To be given life is luck
Had I lost and not known life it would not
Made any difference for the spore
Not to have seen a sunrise a sunrise over
The Pacific Ocean, a mountain high and
Rabbits in the Woods
Never loved by a woman or the glorious hurt
Of the first one who left
The softness of her skin the colour of her eyes
Yes, I swam in the lake of enchantment
Walked near the waterfall where lovers cry
All this because I was the lucky one, the victor
And so millions had to die
SkinlessFrank Sep 2016
the dentist reshapes
the bridge of your nose
his breath of garlic
it seeps from your pores
while you sleep
but when you
have a real problem
you call the plumber
to fish out your stomach lining
from the sink drain
using an eggbeater
that he operates
by pumping air
into a rubber bulb
that’s spent too much time
seeing the inside of organs
like the piñata that you raised
high up to the oak beams
with your climbing ropes and
split open with a pick axe

out poured whole chickens
and blood sausages, hams
and the lies
you told to your children
SkinlessFrank Sep 2016
my father was a
veterinarian
a lazy one at that

and when I was born
he simply stood by and
watched as my mother
circumcised me
with a carrot peeler

the trauma left its mark so to speak
mom and dad split up
when I was five
she ran off with the butcher's wife
he patented universal acid
a liquid that no container can hold

we don’t talk much these days
and the earth is slowly dissolving
With your bottom resting on me
you roam the world of poetry
display spectrum of your poetic mood
ever bothered about this piece of wood?

I hold your frame over day and night
weight of your spirit soaring to height
your struggle to find in all only good
ever bothered about this piece of wood?

I rest your arms on my armrest
for your comfort I do my best
see you don't fall when in deep brood
ever bothered about this piece of wood?

For years my touch has kept you at peace
carried you safe seated with ease
when empty yawns the space I stood
is it then you would realize worth of my wood?
from my companion chair
30/10/2015
SkinlessFrank Sep 2016
under a clear blue sky
Uncle *****
grabbed a squirrel and
impaled him squarely
on a pike

the squirrel
didn’t die at first

instead he shook
and vibrated
as though electrified

but later
the white of his eyes
dripped

Uncle *****
lay down on his back
drunk
his head leaned
over on one side
a yellow discharge
from inside his throat and ears
spilled out in a puddle
onto the floor

some ants
and later a dog
investigated
but found the taste
not to their liking

every morning now
when i wake
i think of my
five month old grandson
living in a world
ruled by this "funny uncle"

and inside
i retch
Another Donald Trump poem
SkinlessFrank Sep 2016
Sometimes a fatted pig will wander off from the pen and find his way to the pond on the edge of the property.  If it’s dark or foggy, he may fall in and sink to the bottom.  Only later when his carcass has filled with methane and mucous will he float to the surface.  You’ll know he’s been in the water for a while when you see the bloat, the blisters oozing, and the skin sloughing off in large sheets.  Don’t go there.  It might reflect poorly on you.

Ok.  So you didn’t listen.  You went ahead and fetched a stick and poked.   And you were taken aback by just  how easily it slid through his tissues, like the time when that pigeon alighted on your hand, and you were startled by how it weighed almost nothing at all.  So to see what might come of it, you wiggled the stick, and suddenly what was left of the liver and kidneys popped up onto the surface and spit a stream of water into your mouth. They drifted towards you and away again, like your lost toy sailboat, the one that got off the string and floated down the rapids in Lucerne.  Over the falls it went, under the covered bridge, and that was the end.

Of course you still eat blood sausage.  Why wouldn't you?  The texture is rubbery but the taste is well ….. like blood....so metallic on your tongue.   But this blood will not wash away your sins.  It’s more like Pepsi Cola, or maybe Mountain Dew.
SkinlessFrank Sep 2016
another birthday
and as usual
he awoke
thinking
about the
three dead mice
and how the poor things
must have
fallen into the can
and starved to death

one
had probably survived
a bit longer
for it found
salvation
in the tissues
of the others

and when
he cradled it
in his hand
the creature
broke apart like
a puffball and
the brown spores
living smoke
filled his nostril
and went about
their important
business
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