#loco
I put on my fancy hat, and all the weird ones vanish like pimples under acne cream. Remember to dream.
Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 1:46 PM UTC
the osprey flys overhead, but the baby rabbit trembles not
~for any grandparent-poet lurking about~
the osprey overflies, a regularity scheduled patrol over
our backyard emporium and all its hors d’oeuvre creatures,
***** has parental responsibilities, beaks to feed, PTA conferences,
the pilot, a wary watchful animal-his-rights guy, catalogues their still living existentialism, for though they are not fish, his diet of preference, but in a pinch a rodent or rabbit stew will do, if the fish are running too deep for no warming sun beckoning them to the surface.
Motel^ the baby rabbit, who lives with his parents,
(who doesn’t these days?) beneath the deck,
chews the clover overnight sprung, blissfully i g n o r a n t,
unawares or ignoring the poet be-laureating (him-her) but a mere
few feet above and away, pays no attention to the Poppy’s (grandfather) lecture about the rules of the animal kingdom,
who, eats whom, and to be more attentive to flying raptors.
thunderstorms forecast for the afternoon, severe say
the textured textual phone-netical all green messages, which
of course is a signal signal to the sun his job is done and can
leave the untanned poet in his state of original sin, soooo deliciously
white that he earns an appraising glance from eyes of the osprey,
a privilege he would happily tan away to promote equality ‘n stuff like peace on earth.
Motel, with his thermometer-humidity nasal instrumentation twitcher, decides, after chewing it over most carefully, time to go underneath where the white half naked people domicile, in order to avoid bathing, not his fav pastime, but making the osprey quitter le ciel, which is French for get out of Dodge, they got babies of their own to shelter and protect, even feed.
The Poppy, contented, thinks to himself, god couldn’t be everywhere,
so he invented grandpas to be “En Loco Parentis” which
Does Not Mean Instead of Crazy Parents,
but easily could,
for who else writes
poems like this?
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 1:08 PM UTC
Loco porque yo lo coloco
y ella lo quita y lo coloca
con cola loca en
otro loquito lugar
Loco lo quito y otra vez
loquito vuelvo y lo coloco
como un bobo loco
bien dónde debe estar
Y la loquita loca
lo quita de su local
Y lo coloca en otro lugar
El colmo del caso
es que si seguimos acaso
dando este paso
nunca lo cazo en
casa local al loco
loco loquito locazo.
Así que deme otro vaso
Qué si la loca
lo quiere al loco de paso
lo buzco al triple locazo
y lo juro que
yo me lo cazco.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 8:23 PM UTC
ElectroShock Therapy
Minor doses of,
electroshock therapy,
typing on a keyboard,
hysterically,
my fingers hurt,
numb could just fall off,
but I keep writing and writing and writing,
applause of,
the crowd,
passively observing,
as I twitch from the EMFs,
that hit in micro-doses that they’re serving,
constructing scripts,
at a pace that’s constant,
do what you feel is real,
because the rest is just nonsense,
on then,
on with the show,
tribal techno,
rapid slow mo,
ready or not here we go…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Volume 1
The H Trilogy
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
Profits go to preventing ****** assault against children.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!
∆
Here are the links for my new book:
www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 5:41 PM UTC
La oscuridad de tu mente es un laberinto sin salida,
el más minimo rayo de luz se extingue. Enloqueces,
te deprimes
y las ganas de vivir
se anulan.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 12:35 PM UTC
Hello,
This strange dream continues
leading me through
dim hallways
devoid of you
and empty carriages
that take me there-
to where you used to be;
a time where golden rays
of sunshine
embolden me
to newer heights,
till i never remember
that you were never here-
a mere memory betrayed,
a figment of my imagination,
you alight on my mind,
twittering a senseless tune,
random
things
to suppress what is really there-
the sum of crazy.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
My madness is intoxicated with sadness.
Survival is a catalyst, speeding up your emotions.
Suddenly its all dark.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC