/                                america, july 18th:
  and the utter media shambles -
like ****** and steroids
for the uninitiated -
     tongues without the rattlesnake
trill of an ᚨᚱ:
   numbed w'ah w'ah peddling
of woe to row the sinking boat:
maniac adult funfair
attempting a nostalgia
for the playground game
of bulldog...

                russia, 25th march:
the kemerovo fire (siberia) -
          children frying, screaming,
perhaps even hoping -
  a shying herod, the example
of: as moloch descended...
          prayers in the fire
                  by the innocents...

england, july 19th -
   alternative to rehydrating
using water...
    a generous 5 hour sleep -
******* on the remains
of last night's lemon
     used to infuse the subtle
smoky of bell's whiskey,
playlist:

- the jon spencer blues
  explosion (bellbottoms)
- britney spears (criminal)
- twenty one pilots (heathens)
- calvin harris (this is what you came for)
- camila cabello (habana)
- rihanna (disturbia)
- birdbrain (youth of america)
- ghost (ritual)
- focus (hocus pocus)
- edwyn collins (a girl like you)
- the guess who (american woman)
- the knack (my sharona)
- cronica (herr mannelig)

and then onto buckling in
4 beers and thinking
about black holes as the pin-head
of antimatter -
a dead sun...
     dead, but not dead...

   and the first, crude graphic
tomb raider game...

   rather than having completed
it...
     since only owning
a demo...

                 investigating
the possibility of 2D objects in
3D space...
       well: the universe isn't even
exactly 3D: it's hyper-3D...
    but in the tomb raider game
you could walk up to a minor
detail in the game, a fern,
and observe two-dimensionality
in a "three dimensional space"...

   namely: the ferns were all 2D,
and rotated within a "hyperbole"
of the eye -
   however you observed the "object"
it rotated round and round,
never allowing you to see
    its demoniac otherside -

i can only expect dead suns to
behave in such a manner -
   two dimensional objects in a three
dimensional subject matter -
almost paradoxical -

     rotating at immense speed...
invigorating a near but not quiet
a postportem of a death...

       and you really can see UV light
surface
staring at a glaring hot sun with
a naked eye -
   and see the same hyper-rotation -
it's almost like looking at
molten silver, but with a hint
of violet - i.e. akin phosphorescence:
but in the daytime...

and who said you need to
ingest hallucinogenics -
    and enter the labyrinth of a short,
short, history,
    of the chipmunk caveman?

i'm just drunk, you're probably
sober...
    but those guys doing
a timothy leary sermon?
   they're...
     gone.......................... gone -
     they hit the tangens curve.

I scribble about planets strewing from the face
They’re hip-hop graffiti or spiting images of
exo-lifeforms.
Abstract wavelengths circling from heads
canvasing an earth unlike what i’ve
kaleidoscope before
You’ve  s e e n  it.

The face
The endless kamikaze from exoplanets
swaddling behind bulging eyeballs.

of supernova’s and B-72 solar systems
My birdbrain.

Your sad and weary caterpillar eyes
Finally helped me come to realize
Our future need to metamorphasize
No more crawling, lets be butterflies

But sometimes I'm as blind as a bat
And I can move as slow as a sloth
Lets order in, watch TV, and get fat
Blame the world and turn all goth
But instead lets try on another hat
Lets flap our dusty wings as a moth
You Coulda been a filthy street rat
Lucky to be cut from a different cloth

Yes you may live like a bird on a wire
You may be a rabbit blinded by desire
Chasing tail, just another skirt to squire
Learn to fly moth, headfirst to the fire

Or perhaps you"re an ostrich with it's birdbrain in the ground
Blissfully ignorant to see sights, smell, taste or hear a sound
Bringing up the rear, blindly spiraling yet you're nowhere bound
Stand up tall and breathe in life, and lets make it epicly profound

My home lies in a distant world
Unknown to me
My consciousness takes me there
In times of despair

Where my family is always laughing
And the cook’s always cooking
The birds always singing
And the books always, well, booking

My room lies in a separate part of the house
Hidden away from sight and sound
My bed, the storehouse of my dreams
My palace of solitude

It’s there where I think
It’s there where I dream
It’s there where I write
There where I eat ice cream

But then they came
And placed clocks inside my room
I asked what they were for
“To tell you the time, birdbrain.”

Why would anyone in their right minds
Want to know the time?
I know when I’m hungry
That’s the time I’m hungry
I know when I’m sleepy
That’s the time I’m sleepy

What do I need clocks for?
So I threw the clock out

But they came again
With a bigger clock this time
The kind which doesn’t fit in my window sill
So I gave up
And thought to myself,
“Well, I don’t need it. If it’s there,
Let it be.”

And so it was
The clock kept ticking
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick ******* tock

Until the noise of the hand
Was written in my brain
In every song I sung
Every thought I thunk
I couldn’t make the noise go away

It was taking over my life
Telling me what we do
When to eat and when to sleep
And when to do the other stuff that I do

So I broke the clock
And thought it was over
But the world wouldn’t give up
They just couldn’t leave me alone
They came one after another
And put clocks in my room

Every shape, every size
Wristwatches, wall clocks
They even got me
A grandfather’s clock
Until every space inside my fortress of solitude
Was filled with tiny, ticking machines
And every cell in my mind
Became just like theirs

Now I’m one of them
And wear a watch wherever I go
I see the time before going out
I see the time when I’ve to get home

I know what I’ve become
I’m scared of what’s next
I’m scared of the time
I’ll have to put clocks
In the room of a little boy
Who’ll never be the same again.

I will never see yellow the same
As when I asked her
Of my favorite color
Truth be told, I never had one
She shouted with this flame
And in a spur
I bet every dollar
And she still won

I won’t argue or complain
Even when she calls me birdbrain
For I love her
Through and through
She has always been true
And I hope she thinks of me too

toothpicks

babies

a closeness
to captain
birdbrain

hard-on
amputee

toys

Nattering **** head of negativity
Birdbrain, half-wit *****
Can’t count on to get on
Ever a nerd twerp blockhead
Braindead- can’t follow a single thread
Instead
Dance to the strings of your puppet poodle
You’re boring attempts are feudal
You’re as appetizing as a ten-day-old strudel
Square head, *******, yoyo, bozo
Backhoe cargo
Exciting as bread dough
Rising
Not surprising
That I’m so despising
You’re constant attempts at upstaging
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your raging
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your blaming
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your constant contradictions left me
With a drug addiction
I’m not blaming
Just saying
Praying for the end
But wait
Why all the hate?
What hate?

Isn’t the mirror
Reflecting the interior
Can anyone save me from my nightmare?
Scared
That must be it
I mean me.

gold of kings cannot touch it
their robes o' scarlet cannot match it
the wonder that is the flying goldfinch
that holds me in a boxer's clinch

which master craftsman formed this bijou
of rubies carmine, soft white 'n champagne,
its auric bands on wings of two
proclaims aloud 'twas no birdbrain.

The following words worth your time to read
no matter said poem crafted
maybe at most, a scant half score years ago
when forty fifth president
granted carte blanche to gut American government
poisoned seeds of life and white lily with dog speed
leaving the one tended garden of eden gone to ****.

Heil To The Warthog Chief Firebrand -
more worrisome than an ovarian cyst
or being brandshed with pugilist fist
upending the webbed
wide world of democracy he doth insist
guaranteeing United States of America
ship of state will severely list
then slipping into the behavioral sink.

Das boot trump out-
(oust him to) Waterloo
Eagerly awaits you
the then bully in the white house and true
as my Reince prescience foretells this poe
whit, that, yawl get a lucky strike
if ya keep yar show
fur one quarter off hiz terminal daze starring down
(with bad medicine), thee ole scarecrow!

╰☆╮ Thankfully, I'm not a royal heir
to the power monger hoarders╰☆╮
which comb hen might handy when borders
hermetically sealed - per heil hit lore
caw zing a furor with his stark
jumbo je ne sais quoi lay bean orders.

I dont wanna don a duck dynasty outfit,
or that of a wood chucker
but...holy *******
and kudos to any heckler,
who deems steam roller trump as a mean trucker

thus - for the umpteenth attempt to post
without any intention
to induce rabid reaction to roast
my *** (albeit scrawny just to be cheeky),
I **** rye America will burn like toast
if....mister money bags - to the finish line
of presidential electorate, he doth coast.

My anti Donald trump screed continues tut try
tip picture conjure pixelated stress less or more
WE MUST DO MORE THAN YODEL LOUD:
out....out...get...life not death, he seems to ab ****
ding **** Donald drake...out...of...here...
without...his security detail or...coat....of...
(Emperor wears no clothes) armor!

I will not condone political measures
from that mane lion kapo -
jabbering indiscretion!

Herewith follows a poem
I dashed off in a huff - to douse
dat auld don trumpeting joie de vivre
fin de siecle utopia of yesteryear
puffin sewerage bilge -
strike n horror n ma eyes -
for opinion aye espouse
based on scary political fracas
and looming nightmare -

whar mo' will grouse
to obstruct trump access
to black keys to white house
that a looming presidential nightmare
doth not become real - gruff louse
he will crush sacred freedoms,
whence western civilization goes off bluff
analogous to a rabid cat terminating
the life of more'n Mickey Mouse.

DUCK AFTER DUMP PING THE DON -
a pipe dream that will never take shape.

Air ring ma thoughts - no matter aye ham
juiced one twenty first century mwm ape
serves as genuine esse cape
to fly (during pitch black hours of night)
on his witch a ma call it...
to escape temporarily the cares and concerns
of an uncertain world,
where as an outlier from madding crowd I gape

at the sheer insanity
trumpeting strumpets donning an innate
prejudice and senselessness purr
blind faith toward self avowed demigod --
seize ***** viz Caesar -
forever linkedin with maxim
Veni, Vedi, Vici -
idolized statecraft motto
Trump perfects with his witch's brew he doth stir

his hair coiffed and puffed like it whir
wind blown kickstart ting mobs to stir
paying bodyguards to evict
ruckus-causing murmur
oh...how the masses will let this country
go to hell in hand basket -
blithely purging the Iran Nuclear Deal,
The Paris Climate Agreement
plus rack up stratospheric global debt

cause zing this one measly mortal male to fret
that totalitarian rule will force every man,
woman and child to march....het
two...three...four, while the billionaire
turns a third blind eye
speeds away in his foo fighter jet

argh...heavens to Betsy Ross,
Condoleezza Rice, Nancy Reagan,
and iggy pop  goo goo dolls
how did the fickle finger of fate let
this pompous ***
vacuums up majority votes
across world wide net
to finagle vox populi,
and groom hooligan nasty ruffian thugs
with smashed face as his smart pet.

GoLong Daddy story short -
pondering my rental circumstance
will be upended if this ret
chad, evil, googly-eyed, gastronomic,
narcissistic bullish Don will set
the spark for world war three -
via gone ah re: ha...ha...ha...to all vet
tureens within the American crucible melting *** -
with verbal whips and chains,
whose invective blast sucker punching
DACA, and those
who strain to uphold economic backbone
he does NOT STOP to undermine stoop labor,
which anonymous backs
he bloodies via twittering witless
birdbrain rot, unless....
Katrina and the Waves, superman
or the Sabrina can oust him yet!