I need to sell this Caddy to the Cardinal
and get my lifelong harbinger mood swing
out from the wilderness of oblique directives
written with the strident ***** of Satan
shaking money from my pockets again
like they do in Burmese shadow theater
where the container is the contained
trying to let it miss your attention won't fly
because we obstinately index the cornucopia
in a total lack of continuity all at once
with a pigeon tongue spoken in barter
fit only for bouncy news anchor banter
pancake makeup a bit too aflame
like the Great Blazing Spiral in the Sky
his mind a bordello of interpretation
memes eating his soul like red worms
only my degree from the School for the Sickly
standing tolerably vigilant between me
and the dervish nuns of St. Manacle
doing their Plantation Branding Iron Dance
for chopped liver epicures at the Bank of Winter
conniving with the demented to create a better world
living dead men's dreams like a second skin
he hated coercion like he hated licorice
his collective unconscious operation manual
tossed on the burn pile half a life ago
going from syntactically correct to uncooked
in infinitesimal quantities with a Nefertiti smile
perpetually enthused by the mystery of tomorrow
just don't try to tell me how to move my eyelids
barely able to walk after the derision of linguists
lobbed horseshoes across my barricades
on a search and destroy mission
and that's space for you
beginning with  the rank elements
God is not dead he is passe etc.
nature is unquestionably to be leashed etc.
a raised by wolves feral non-conformist
everything orbits everything else
which will bend yer crank kid
tried quoting Lenin but it was too easy
the proletariat is people in a pickle
the dueling cucumbers of class warfare
it was a kosher Pentecost event
now I'm on a dozen watch lists
followed by Diana's paparazzi
to this claustrophobic cinemaplex
and its temporal artery of light
at 3 o:clock in the afternoon
a good cheap remedy
following a bad diagnosis

From "Pageant of Naked Mischief" available on Amazon