Chapter One: Bozo & Bonzo

The Goatman was a fat guy who lived in the old part of town where everything looked tired. No one around there cared very much about anything.
There were two bums who liked to hang around the train tracks over there. We started calling them Bozo and Bonzo. Bonzo didn't mind because he loved The Who and Bonzo happened to be his favorite drummer. Bozo did mind and would curse and spit at us whenever we'd say the word. He told us to call him by his real name (Charlie) but we liked Bozo a lot more.
Anyway, my friend Lawrence and I would give Bonzo and Bozo a quarter each for a recounting of a recent sighting of the Goatman. One day after school we decided to drop by the tracks to see if they were around. They were, and they were both **** drunk and stunk like wet dogs do after they come inside from the rain. Bonzo asked me if I wanted a swig from his flask and I shook my head no.
"******' *****, I knew you weren't the real deal," Bonzo muttered as he swirled his flask in a circle, as if it were an expensive martini.  
"I don't need your nasty backwash, thanks," I shot back.
"We want more information on the Goatman," Lawrence broke in.
"We have quarters," I added.
Lawrence took the 50 cents from his pocket and extended his arm. Bozo quickly snatched up the coins and laughed.
"You two hot for the Goatman or somethin'?"
"We're not gay for the Goatman," Lawrence says. "But we're definitely gay for finding out who the **** he actually is."
Bozo laughed some more but it came out as a hearty, borderline obese and drunk gargle/scoff.
"We saw him yesterday, believe it or not. I was takin' a **** in a bush across the street from him and he came amblin' out. I was too drunk to care much at the time but lookin' back, I shoulda been more scared," Bozo looked down at the worn boots on his feet and kicked the dirt. "He was carryin' a tiny plastic shoppin' bag, all neatly *******. After he went back inside I crept over and took it and just ******' ran, man," Bozo seemed distressed just verbalizing his encounter.
"So what was inside?" I knew he was getting to it, but I needed to know.
"Just some candy wrapper. Nothin' but candy wrapper. Butterfingers', 3 Musketeers', Pay Days. You name it, he ate it," Bozo completely broke down laughing this time. I'm coming to realize he is the sort of person who thinks he's funnier than anyone else seems to.

Test Ting Won To Tree
By
Charles Fleischer







Rifleman decal water is to Tiny basket liners as Strained yo-yo string is to?
Dark wool glowing is to Oldest lost oddity as First genetic engine is to?
Black quail taint is to Nut curdled paint as Hemp biscuit dominoes are to?
Steam traced paper is to Lemon ash vapor as Digital ****** wig is to?
Eccentric brine mimes are to Electric silk slacks as Spark formed lava is to?
Sunchoked black hornets are to as Rescued orphan doves as Retold cat jokes are to?
Hand traced videos are to Braided rubber spines as Opal rain dancers are to?
Halogen anchor gong is to Annoying bread portraits as Soft bracelet lockers are to?
Old troll bios are to Select cherub echoes as Broken matchstick parasols are to?
Dome nine chariots are to Frayed lunar remnants as Fuming honey flasks are to?
Bluing assault operas is to Beading fluted flowers as Magnetic lawn tweezers are to?
Converted flea sponges are to Floating dog murals as Frozen Archie comics are to?
Molded road pads are to Crusty gumdrop thread as Straw ribbed pelicans are to?
Inflatable diamond vowel is to Single gender raffle as Groovy desert coffee is to?
Temporary solution radiation is to Idiotic witness mumble as Motorized marshmallow kit is to?
Panoramic utopian paranoia is to Aggravated **** silhouettes as Unhinged gun sellers are to?
Homesick ghost pajamas is to Virtuous fly fungus as Royal sandpaper gloves are to?
Gangster hayride tickets are to Deer milk Oreos as Turnip fairy maps are to?
Glue gun **** is to Nocturnal cabin mice as Cab fare corn is to?
Speckled fish nickels are to Under water bric-a-brac as Epic snakeskin paisley is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Raunchy snail kimono is to Coiled time dice as Smeared equator malt is to?
Metallic centaur franchise is to Transparent cheese chess as Spotted glacial remnants is to?
Sky fused pong is to Rustic mothers brattle as Granulated canister ointment is to?
Overgrown maze mule is to Mated smugglers hugging as Floating thesaurus exam is to?
Sliding coed sprinkler is to Soapy whitefish rebate as Precious lamb diaper is to?
Mushy acorn luster is to Lilac protein rings as Slapstick wrestler dialect is to?
Freaky plankton bells is to Rolling horse divorce as Morphing morphine lips are to?
Sticky razor sparkle is to Emerald muscle spasm as Glaring cat cipher is to?
Peppy unisex mustache is to Pelican fighter syndrome as Clumping night grumble is to?
Scanning paired pearls are to Ruby rubbed roaches as Satanic sailor flotsam  are to?
Glowing asteroid solder is to Ideal shark data as Failed frail doilies are to?
Numb nuts boredom is to Fantastic icy phantoms as Sporadic silk creations is to?
Crooks crow chow is to Loading spackled bonder as Gargled snowdrop blasters are to?
Outdid myself today is to Outside myself again as Outlived myself controls is to?
Venting shuttlecock upset is to Texting badminton kitten as Settler tested motels are to?
Prepare paired vents is to Prefer paid events as Pretender predicts fiction is to
Crunchy mental fender is to Catching mentor menace as Poorly seasoned lettuce is to?
Outside sidewalk inside is to Seaside outcast input as Sideways landslide victory is to?  
Compile fake password is to Compost world poo as Compose village anthem is to?
Crooked crotch blunder is to Loud crowd thunder as Divine vine finder is to?
Chucks’ wooden truck is to Bucks good luck as Sticky ducks tucked is to?  
Overhaul underway overseas is to Overturned downsized pickup as Underground onramp overloaded is to?
I’ll bite there is to Aisle byte their as Isle bight there is to?
Gnat gnawed wrist is to ***** show beans as See through putty is to?
Flapping floppy guppies are to Buzzing zipped dozers as Muddy ****** strippers are to?
Dark diagonal dialogue is to Diabolical dihedral die as Interesting circadian exposition is to?
Experimental flossing expectations are to Waxed dental traps as Permanent impermanence resolution is to?  
Outran ringside intrigue is to Sidetracked onboard boatload as Loaded firearm topside is to?
Phony ****** phone is to Chewy ego honey as Yogi Mama’s dada is to?
Nimble teardrop squiggle is to Humble cage curtains as Loyal truckstop morals are to?
Torching curled elastic is to Sonic neighbor clamor as Golden droplet integers are to?
Duplex pupil scanners are to Nacreous cloud clocks as Shrouded flute shops are to?
Lawn rocket tendrils are to Finding surreal borders as Sheep monarchs children is to?
Gloating ungloved squires are to Busting double doubters as Pushing woeful doctors are to?
Tricking snowbelt firedogs is to Panmixing blackened haywires as Unclothed shameful leaders are to?
Malicious ranch ritual is to Internal puppet bubble as Ornate underworld masquerade is to?
Rustic debonair Eskimos are to Mindless sassy elves as Gorgeous somber acrobats are to?
Learned earthy pimps are to Fearless sneaky Queens as Somber gentle vagrants are to?
Shocking horse wear is to Glossy sled fluid as Damaged chipmunk tongue is to?
Traditional agony chart is to Damp voodoo motel as Backwoods museum quote is to?
Magical cat cabin is to Dapper porpoise humor as Malicious graveyard foam is to?
Therapeutic gazelle cushion is to Stored alibi equipment as Stunning tempo light is to?
Fantastic rascal art is to Wasted prune dust as Jupiter’s ****** law is to?
Little nut razor is to Gigantic hyena shield as Hourglass pillow fever is to?
Coiled rain clouds are to Dizzy tycoon clowns as Lime eating cowards are to?
Possessive epicurean demonstrators are to Faded eavesdropping giants as Determined swanky drunks are to?
Aquatic preview pocket is to Soggy judicial topiary as Finicky hamster fabric is to?
Enlarged fruit cuff is to Obedient mumbling orchestra as Dark tenant tariff is to?
Recycled flash thermometer is to Botched temptation probe as Pet glider grid is to?
Seriously shy idols are to Costly driving perfumes as Ferryboat chapel wine is to?
Winged jalopy details are to Faithful spectral fathers as Sprinkled mint rainbows are to?
Spelling unneeded words is to Sprouting donut ***** as Blaming mellow mallrats are to?
Eroding loom keepsake is to Magnificent accordion canoe as ***** bongo fumes are to?
Souring violet ink is to Juvenile insult park as Periodic ferret envy is to?
Obedient boyfriend aroma is to Sanitized fat lozenges as Dramatic jailer garb is to?
Mysterious patrol group is to Dynamic maiden discharge as Captured hurricane ratio is to?
Lackadaisical bigot bingo is to Oblong care merchant as Expensive swamp shampoo is to?
Petite orifice worship is to Atomic barge pet as Plucked hair exhibit is to?
Elite officer wallop is to Automatic yard rake as Healing ****** glitter is to?
Needless swan costume is to Giant jungle goat as Organic picnic napkin is to?
Leaky jet steam is to Innovative fascist whistle as Enchanting idol evidence is to?
Plastic mascara seduction is to Greasy thermal ointment as Attractive muskrat crease is to?
Lucky camel pills are to White coral Torah as Eternal stage clutter is to?
Roasted oat **** is to Sloppy *** glue as Nylon table debt is to?
Steep nook catastrophe is to Empty dome damage as Pulsing breeze powder is to?
Empty sack power is to Hitched buck stroke as Red claw warning is to?
Ultra brief slogan is to Yummy lab mutant as Pathetic ball armor is to?
Nauseating fish splatter is to Obstinate ****** twitch as Strained ***** coffee is to?
Mezzanine intermission fossil is to Proven **** apathy as Golden duck shroud is to?
Civil tutors torment is to Thor’s posted theory as Yellow melon rain is to?
Immense olive raft is to Exploding kangaroo buffet as Ethereal witness index is to?  
Marching dark speeders are to Searing scribble fighters as **** tripping sinners are to?
Seeping viral angst is to Aged hermit tea as Murky bowl nibble is to?
Condensed blister guzzle is to Pink dorsal pie as Lavish speckled runt is to?
Needy insult poet is to Sedated acorn trader as Dry honey zoo is to?
Veiled trust flicker is to Deranged poser fashion as Flat sizzle tangent is to?
Purified diet spray is to Nebulous wishing target as Thrilling screen dope is to?
Majestic ribbon astronomy is to Bizarre formation sector as Rebel bell gimmick is to?
Sealed dart whisper is to Green silk draft as Cold vacuum varnish is to?
Clumsy raven power is to Insect island circus as Minted mink drapes are to?
Curved map ruler is to Tiny lethal radio as Blue fused metal is to?
Inverted laser invasion is to Damp sheep dump as Puffy gown smoke is to?
Saucy Channel blazer is to Leather goat filament as Starched locomotive hat is to?
Broken jumper leads are to Disgraced mini exorcists as Designer shamrock caulk is to?
Tweaked poachers smokes are to Assorted sulfur pathways as Collected bedlamp trickle is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Crawling battle worms are to Vibrating metal pedals as Mentholated matrix wax is to?
Missing meshed rafts are to Liquid rock pipes as Crinkled bean bikinis are to?
Tithing **** joggers are to Perforated buck fronds as Leather zither picks are to?
Fearing truthful cowards is to Rambling preachers mumble as Gazebo ambulance gasoline is to?
Shelving elder’s whiskers is to Poaching goalies pesto as Radical tricycle angst is to?
Mucky gunboat polymer is to Primeval maypole flameout as Cathedral greenhouse intercom is to?
Diaphanous safety prize is to Unleashed saucer lion as Dorky blonde ropewalker is to?
Tapered spring meter is to Silver silo mythology as Misguided judges medallions are to?
Alligator x-ray money is to Cherry unicorn water as Coyote cactus toy is to?
Cowardly dorm scrooge is to Atomized pewter script as Flattened spore smoothies are to?
Trash can yodel is to Flashing wired spam as Exploding chocolate pudding is to?
Sonar blasted bushings are to Threading ruined wheels as Forty shifting boxes are to?
Tiny balloon rebellion is to Softened square cleanser as Iconic soul sucker is to?
Harmony night light is to Spanish nitrogen desire as Squirrel cavern iodine is to?

Lazy winter secret is to Slow airport widget as Silly mustard binder is to?
Elephants raising raisins are to Microscopic lamb planet as Purple hay puppets are to?
Caribou venom vaccine is to Electronic lemonade choir as Demonic princess massage is to?
Beet coated bridge is to Fattened needle point as Mylar monkey spine is to?
Ashy ink dust is to Youngest rabbi planet as Orange cartoon geometry is to?
Cold green chalk is to Cobalt ladder farce as ***** river filters are to?
Sublime sheep master is to Sleeping past rapture as Subliminal bliss jelly is to?
Ocean crust slippers are to Twigged germ radar as Popping sharpie scope is to?
Zen wrapped beep is to Oak foamed code as Wicked flashing sizzle is to?
Dew eyed sleigh is to Say I do as Act as me is to?
Humpback on hammock is to Ham hocking hummer as Hunchback with knapsack is to?
Corned flag jelly is to Draped wing chewers as Tripping swan acid is to?
Futuristic Rembrandt chant is to Almond likened meadows as Asian timber blue is to?
Nap in sack is to Flap on Jack as Ducks dig crack is to?
Flowing flavored lava is to Gleaming optic layers as Enhanced goose gibberish is to?      
Flag tied pajamas are to Saline checker choir as Speed reading quotas is to?
Whipped spam spasms are to Misted shaman scripture as Testing pitched bells is to?
Cave aged eggs are to Crowded tiger cages as ****** wagon pegs are to?
Pigeon towed car is to a Man toad art as Wolf whisker wish is to?
Second hand clothes are to Minute hand gestures as Final hour prayer is to?
Slick wicked shavers are to Tricky watch boxes as Sprouting pine tattoos are to?
Waxed stick ravens are to Match stick foxes as Narrowed thermal towers are to?
Ice cave rice is to Laced face lice as Gourmet pet **** is to?
Diamond lane anniversary is to Space age appropriate as Time travel agency is to?
Lime bark violin is to Lemon twig guitar as Lunar sky waffles are to?
Fake rat **** is to Smart cake batter as Rugged fur tax is to?
Tarred raft fluff is to Flaked rafter dust as Lined liquor flask is to?
Flakes will fall is to Take Bills call as Broken maze compass is to?
First faked voter is to Entombed cartoon honey as Smallest aching smurf is to?
Fancy bared ******* are to Flaky fairy treats as Kings amp filter is to?
Bone window folio is to Whittled fake pillow as Little fitted jackets are to?
Nine nuts brittle is to Ate pear pie as Six packed poppers are to?
Incandescent playground pencil is to Elastic hand worm as Perfumed piano ink is to?
Opal shifting anode is to a Windup lion decoy as Pale paisley trolley is to?
Stacked black boxes are to Old packed tracks as a Throwing micron hammers is to?
Apricot bark furnace is to Merry Orchid Choir as an Ivory rinsing funnel is to?  
Narcotic honey nuts are to Slick flag toffees as Silk fig sugar is to?
Orange coin raisins are to Low note candies as Smelling balled roses is to?
Pocket packed monotints are to Tragic ladder hayracks as Ravishing speed traders are to?
Crayon spider resin is to Coral squirrel forceps as Wolf tumbled loaf is to?  
Silver wheat flies are to Width shifting wheels as Golden blister blankets are to?
Really tiny hippopotamus is to Masked fat podiatrist as a Sad sack psychiatrist is to?
Miniature Mesopotamian monuments are to Apple minted elephants as Raising wise ravens is to?
Lathered nymph nacre is to Sonic ion constellations as Concealed iron craft is to?  
Epic gene toy is to Ladies bubble sled as Jagged data bowl is to?
Bugged dagger bag is to Pop sliced meld as Atom bending moonlight to?  
Rural madam’s deed is to Dyed dew dipper as Eight sprayed dukes are to?
Jiffy grand puffer is to Floating altar myth as Vintage dark mirth is to?
Undercover overnight underwear is to Overpaid undertaker overdosing as Overheard understudy freebasing is to?

Black grape crackle is to Red cactus ruffle as Installing padded pets are to?
Snide snobs sniffing are to Sneaky snails snoring as Snared snipes sneezing are to?
Exploring explosive exits is to Explaining expansive exports as Expecting expert exchange is to?
Shrewd logic ledger is to Puppets dropping cupcakes as Placated topaz octopi are to?
Door roof tools are to Cool wool boots as Wood cooked root is to?
Bright fight light is to Night flight fright as Mites bite site is to?
Floor flood fluid is to Wooden door Druid as Nasty **** broom is to?
Accurate police photography is to Intelligent microbe geography as Condensed aerosol biography is to?
Cowardly cowboy grime is to Corpulent corporate crime as Bosnian dwarf necromancer is to?
Jell-O clearing shaker is to Brillo cleaning shiner as Cheerios bowling shields are to?
Mumbled mindless hokey is to Fumbled found money as Humming kinder bunny is to?
Daisy’s clock setter is to Lilly’s boxer toxin as Poodles rose paddle is to?
Watch Bozo Copernicus is to Hire Clarabelle Newton as Find ***-wee Einstein is to?
Amethyst thistle whistles is to Lapis pistol whip as Diamond bomb scar is to?
Dandelion seahorse rescue is to Crabapple dogwood farm as Faux foxglove lover is to?    
Optical poppy stopper is to Polar halo lens as Day-Glo rainbow sticker is to?
Savanna leopard spotted is to Eskimo lassos kisses as Alligator lemonade standard is to?
Bill of Rights is to Will of left as Thrill of night is to?
Baptize floozies quickly is to Useless outsized nozzles as Puzzled wizard wanders is to?        
Chaps wearing chaps are to Chaps contesting contests as Consoling concealed consoles is to?
Quiet squirming squirrels are to Aeon beauty queens as Queasy greasy luaus is to?
Knew new gnu is to Sense scents cents as We’ll wheal wheel is to?
Blazing zingers ringing are to Wheezing singers flinging as Freezing finger number are to?
Lamb tomb jogger is to Dumb numb **** as Thumbed crumb bug is to?

Blue accordion casket is to Jaded scholar ***** as German mushroom circus is to?
President George Flintstone is to Funny Fred Washington as Abraham Jetson’s dog is to?
Google Desmond Tutu is to Kalamazoo Zoo Park as Zodiac actors Guru is to?
Swamp cradled whisperer is to Cherished drawbridge cello as Bludgeoned prankster outlaws are to?
Dukes pink mittens are to Smeared nest carava

Robin Williams once said,
"You're only given a little spark of madness, if you lose that, you're nothing."

He'd call it going Full Goose Bozo.
And in it he described it as an awareness, of how vulnerable everything is,
Including yourself,
It's the ideal of being mentally steadfast,
In your own facilities,
To be able to adapt and survive to just about any environment.
That madness is the one thing governments don't know how to tax- let alone handle.
That little spark of madness is what makes you the person that you are,
Your way of adding your mark upon history,
A brush stroke with every interaction.
And if you let it fade you will be forgotten over time.
But it can be rekindled.
Let your little spark of madness free.

These are couplets written by Donald Trump and limericks and other Donald Trump poems "care of" Michael R. Burch (please note that these are parodies) ...

Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of Michael R. Burch

To outfox the pox:
off yourself first, with Clorox!

And since death is the goal,
mainline Lysol!

No vaccine?
Just chug Mr. Clean!

Is a cure out of reach?
Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!

To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!

To immunize your bride,
drown her in Opti-cide!

To end all future gridlocks,
gargle with Vaprox!

Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!

Keywords/Tags: Donald Trump, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, humor, Clorox, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, mrbtrump, mrbcouplets



What REALLY Happened
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump lied and lied and lied.
Americans died and died and died.



Grime Wave
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump is ******* crime ...
unless it's his own grime.



Trump Love
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump "love" is truly a curious thing ...
does he care for our kids half as much as his bling?



Tangled Webs
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Oh, what tangled webs they weave
when Trump and his toupée seek to deceive!



No Star
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump, you're no "star."
Putin made you an American Czar.

Now, if we continue down this dark path you've chosen,
pretty soon we'll all be wearing lederhosen.



Raw Spewage (I)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump
is a chump
who talks through his ****;
he's a political sump pump!



Green Eggs and Spam
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

I do not like your racist ways!
I do not like your hate for gays!

I do not like your gaseous ****!
I do not like you, Crotch-Grabber Trump!

I do not like you here or there!
I do not like you anywhere!

Your brain's been trapped in a lifelong slump
And I do not like you, Hate-Baiter Trump!



Apologies to España
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

the reign
in Trump’s brain
falls mainly as mansplain



Stumped and Stomped by Trump
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a candidate, Trump,
whose message rang clear at the stump:
"Vote for me, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!,
because I am ME,
and everyone else is a chump!"



Humpty Trumpty
by Michael R. Burch

Humpty Trumpty called for a wall.
Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall.
Now all the Grand Wizards
and Faux PR men
Can never put Trumpty together again.



The Hair Flap
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

The hair flap was truly a scare:
Trump’s bald as a billiard back there!
The whole nation laughed
At the state of his graft;
Now the man’s wigging out, so beware!



Roses are red,
Daffodils are yellow,
But not half as daffy
As that taffy-colored fellow!
―Michael R. Burch



Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch



Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch



The Ex-Prez Sez

The prez should be above the law, he sez,
even though he’s no longer prez.
—Michael R. Burch



Quite Con-trary
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trumpy, Trumpy,
fat, balding and lumpy,
how does your Rose Garden grow?
“With venom and spleen
and everything mean,
and my gasket about to blow!”

Trumpy, Trumpy,
obese and dumpy,
why are your polls so low?
“I claimed I was Cyrus
at war with a virus
but lost every time to the minuscule foe!”



Piecemeal, a Coronavirus poem
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

And so it begins—the ending.
The narrowing veins, the soft tissues rending.
Your final solution is pending.
(Soon a portly & pale Piggy-Wiggy
will discount your death as "no biggie.")



Viral Donald (I)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump is coronaviral:
his brain's in a downward spiral.
That pale nimbus of hair
proves there's nothing up there
but an empty skull, fluff and denial.



Viral Donald (II)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Why didn't Herr Trump, the POTUS,
protect us from the Coronavirus?
That weird orange corona of hair's an alarm:
Trump is the Virus in Human Form!



Red State Reject
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

I once was a pessimist
but now I’m more optimistic,
ever since I discovered my fears
were unsupported by any statistic.



The Red State Reaction
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Where the hell are they hidin’
Sleepy Joe Biden?

And how the hell can the bleep
Do so much, IN HIS SLEEP?



The Final Episode of Celebrity Apprentice President
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald
said to The Donald,
"Just between us clowns, your polls are too low!"
So The Donald thought hard
then said to his pard,
"It's because I'm a martyr. The world must know!"
Thus Eric Trump jumped
from his obese Trump ****
to declare the virus a "hoax." (End of show.)



modern Midas
by michael r. burch

they say nothing human's alive
yet the Hermit survived:

the last of His kind,
clean out of His mind.

they say He relentlessly washes His fingers,
as dainty as ever, yet the smell of death lingers.

they say it sets off His corona of hair
when He blanches with fear in his Mansion Faire.

they say He still spritzes each strand into place
though there’s no one to see in that hellish place.

they say there’s a moral in what He’s become
as He fondles gold trinkets and cradles His john.



Mother of Cowards
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

So unlike the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land,
Spread-eagled, showering gold, a strumpet stands:
A much-used trollop with a torch, whose flame
Has long since been extinguished. And her name?
"Mother of Cowards!" From her enervate hand
Soft ash descends. Her furtive eyes demand
Allegiance to her ****'s repulsive game.

"Keep, ancient lands, your wretched poor!" cries she
With scarlet lips. "Give me your hale, your whole,
Your huddled tycoons, yearning to be pleased!
The wretched refuse of your toilet hole?
Oh, never send one unwashed child to me!
I await Trump's pleasure by the gilded bowl!"




Toupée or Not Toupée, That is the Question
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There once was a brash billionaire
who couldn't afford decent hair.
Vexed voters agreed:
"We're a nation in need!"
But toupée the price, do we dare?



Toupée or Not Toupée, This is the Answer
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Oh crap, we elected Trump prez!
Now he's Simon: we must do what he sez!
For if anyone thinks
And says his "plan" stinks,
He'll wig out 'neath that weird orange fez!



White as a Sheet
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Donald Trump had a real Twitter Scare
then rushed off to fret, vent and share:
“How dare Bernie quote
what I just said and wrote?
Like Megyn he’s mean, cruel, unfair!”



Raw Spewage (II)
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump
is a chump
who talks through his ****;
he's a garbage dump
in need of a sump pump!



we did not Dye in vain!
by Michael R. Burch

from “songs of the sea snails”

though i’m just a slimy crawler,
my lineage is proud:
my forebears gave their lives
(oh, let the trumps blare loud!)
so purple-mantled Royals
might stand out in a crowd.

i salute you, fellow loyals,
who labor without scruple
as your incomes fall
while deficits quadruple
to swaddle unjust Lords
in bright imperial purple!

Notes: In ancient times the purple dye produced from the secretions of purpura mollusks (sea snails) was known as “Tyrian purple,” “royal purple” and “imperial purple.” It was greatly prized in antiquity, and was very expensive according to the historian Theopompus: “Purple for dyes fetched its weight in silver at Colophon.” Thus, purple-dyed fabrics became status symbols, and laws often prevented commoners from possessing them. The production of Tyrian purple was tightly controlled in Byzantium, where the imperial court restricted its use to the coloring of imperial silks. A child born to the reigning emperor was literally porphyrogenitos ("born to the purple") because the imperial birthing apartment was walled in porphyry, a purple-hued rock, and draped with purple silks. Royal babies were swaddled in purple; we know this because the iconodules, who disagreed with the emperor Constantine about the veneration of images, accused him of defecating on his imperial purple swaddling clothes!



Twinkle Wrinkles
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Twinkle, twinkle, little "star" ...
Trump, how we wished you blazed                 afar!

Twinkle, twinkle, Groper-Cupid ...
How we've wished you weren't so stupid!

Twinkle, twinkle, Man-Baby "president" ...
In truth you're just the White House resident.



Americans have the opportunity
to greatly improve their community
with votes a-plenty
in 2020.
Dump
Trump!
—Michael R. Burch



Joe Biden, Joe Biden,
our future is ridin’
on you defeatin’
and hidin’
that cancerous lump
called Trump.
—Michael R. Burch



The Perfect Storm
by Michael R. Burch

Stormy Daniels
is Trump's worst nightmare—
a truthteller,
a woman without fear,
full of *****,
unimpressed by his junk,
that he can't debunk.



Aftermath
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Carmen Yulín Cruz is a hero.
Donald Trump is a zero.



15 Seconds
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Our president’s *** life—atrocious!
His "briefings"—bizarre hocus-pocus!
Politics—a shell game!
My brief moment of fame
flashed by before Oprah could notice!



March for Our Lives
by Michael R. Burch

It's not a moment,
it's a MOVEMENT
created to save
innocents from the grave.



Tweety and Pootie
sittin' in a tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
First comes love,
second comes marriage,
third barechested weasels in a White House carriage!
—Michael R. Burch



Three Trump Valentine's Day Poems

1.

If you're tall, blonde and pretty,
I'll grab your kitty.
If you're dark-skinned and short,
It's time to deport!

2.

I'll secure your southern border tonight,
as long as you're wearing white!

3.

If you're not
as hot
as my daughter,
beware;
prepare
for the slaughter!



Why did Trump endorse Roy "Score" Moore when Nostradumbass claimed he "knew" the Sludge Judge couldn't win? ...

Predators of a feather
flock together.
—Michael R. Burch



Kneeling Verboten
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Colin Kaepernick took a stand by kneeling;
now Donald Trump is reeling
as the NFL owners he implored
lock hands with the players he deplored.



How the Fourth ***** Ramped Up
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump prepped his pale Deplorables:
"You're easy marks and scorables!
Now when I bray
click your heels, obey,
and I'll soon promote you to Horribles!"



Trump Trumps "We The People"
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump fired Comey
to appoint a *****:
some pawn in his Kamp
with a big rubber stamp.

Out the window flew freedom!
Rights? You don't need 'em!
Like Attilâ the ***,
Trump answers to no one!

Do you think you have worth?
Trump makes you his serf.
He's your Lord and your Master:
you elected DISASTER.



Pass the Hat for the Fat Cat
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

If you're a Fat Cat,
vote for an Autocrat;
otherwise, stick with a Democrat ...
or get ready to pass the hat
for yourself,
doomed by that strange little pixie-fingered orange elf.



****** Assaulter-in-Chief
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald Trump Bozo
bopped Bill Clinton Clown on the nose: “Oh,
I’ll trump your cigar
with my groping, by far,
when I bounce interns on my Big Pogo!”



Trump's Donor Song
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

(lines written after it became apparent that Trump is not
"draining the swamp" but stocking it with his crocodilian
donors and political piranha)

christmas is coming, the Trumpster's purse is flat:
please put a Billion in the Fat Cat's hat!
if you haven't got a Billion, a Hundred Mil will do.
if you haven't got a Hundred Mil, the yoke's on you!



Alt-Right White Christmas
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump's dreaming of a White Christmas,
just like the ones he used to know
when black renters groveled
or lived in hovels
while he laughed and shouted **-**-**!



*******
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Trump
Is a chump,
He’s an
Orange Heffalump.
His hair?
Made of batter.
His brain?
***** matter.
His “plans”?
A disaster.
His “position”?
Your Master!



Fool's Gold
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

THE DONALD has won (so we're told).
If it's true, worthless swampland's been sold!
But who were the buyers?
Poor folks who trust liars
and pay through the nose for fool's gold.



Bunko
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Agent Orange is full of bunk:
Tiny-fingered, he claims a big "trunk."
And his "platform"? Oh my,
I think we'd all die!
And he can't even claim he was drunk!

NOTE: Donald Trump claims that he doesn't drink alcohol, except when he partakes of Holy Communion. However, Trump insulted the body and blood of Jesus Christ when he spoke dismissively of his "little *******" and "little wine." He claims to be a Christian, but also said that he never asks God for forgiveness! Is he punch drunk or just pulling our legs about being a Christian?



De-Bunko
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There's something I'd like to debunk:
the GOP's not in a "funk."
The Donald, by choice,
is its unfiltered voice.
Vote for someone who's sane, or we're sunk!



Fooling Around
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Ronald McDonald Trump-Bozo
cried, “Clinton Clown cheats with his yo-yo!
He plays fast and loose!
It’s clearly abuse!
Whereas broads love to bounce on my pogo!”

BTW, it's amusing that Rudy Giuliani is now Trump's surrogate, defending him from accusations of ****** assault and other improprieties by scores of women, when in a 2000 "Mayor's Inner Circle" video, Giuliani in drag had his "*******" schmoozed by The Donald, after which Giuliani slapped his face and called him a "***** boy." Obviously, Giuliani was well aware of Trump's reputation for grabbing and groping women without bothering to ask for their permission! Trump's outrageous behavior was a running joke among alpha males in his circle. In 1993, fellow bad boy Howard Stern asked Trump directly: “So you treat women with respect?” Trump answered honestly: “No, I can’t say that either.” And hundreds of chauvinistic public statements and tweets by Trump confirm that he doesn't treat women with respect, or minorities, or anyone that he considers "weak" or "overweight" or "unattractive."



Trumping Tots
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

Things that go bump in the night
fill Herr Trump with irrational fright;
his brain hits the skids;
he shrieks, "Ban dark kids!"
Where's his self-lauded "courage" and "might"?
Is cowardice Trump's kryptonite?



Trump Explains Why His Hair Looks Like ****: It's Been Bleached By Drool
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

"Although my hands are quite tiny,
I have an enormous hiney;
so I stick my head in,
predicting I’ll win,
while everyone kisses it shiny!"



The Name and Blame Game
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

If you have a slightly offbeat name,
you'll be de-planed, detained, restrained, defamed.
Supremacists know pure white names are best,
so be prepared to prove you're among the Blessed.
(Woe unto those who fail Trump's Litmus Test!)



Trump the Game Plan
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

There once was a huckster named Trump
who liked to be kissed on the ****.
He promised awed voters
if they'd be his promoters,
he'd magically fix up their dump.

Now the voters were dreaming of Ronald
and hoping they'd found him in Donald.
And so, lightly "thinking"
after much heavy drinking,
they put out, as if they'd been fondled.

But once he'd secured the election
Trump found his fans cause for dejection.
"I only love tens!"
he complained to his "friends,"
then deported them: black, white and Mexican.

Thus Donald fulfilled his sworn duties
by ridding the land of non-cuties.
Once the plain Janes were gone
he could smile on his throne
surrounded by imported beauties!



Egad,
what a cad;
the Orange Heffalump
scowls when he sees
a baby bump!
Like the Grinch who stole Christmas
(but every day of the year),
The Donald eyes happy
mothers with a leer!
―Michael R. Burch

NOTE: Donald Trump actually body-shamed Kim Kardashian for having a baby bump, saying that she was "large" and ought to watch the kind of clothes she wears in public!



Donald Trump Campaign Songs

Christmas is coming!
Tycoons are getting fat!
TRUMP says, "Take a ****
in some beggar's hat!
Beat him to a pulp
then run him out of town
if he dares object to
the MAN with the GOLDEN CROWN.
And if you're not a Christian,
nothing else will do!
But if you're just like TRUMP,
then may TRUMP bless you!
―Michael R. Burch



SANTA CLAWS is coming to town!
He sees Spics when they're sleeping
and Blacks when they're awake!
He knows that Whites are always good,
but dark skin is God's mistake.
So if you're some poor orphan
with slightly darker skin,
BIG BROTHER will be WATCHING
all blacks and Mexicans!
―Michael R. Burch



Poets laud Justice’s
high principles.
Trump just gropes
her raw genitals.
—Michael R. Burch



Dark Shroud, Silver Lining
by Michael R. Burch

Trump cares so little for the silly pests
who rise to swarm his rallies that he jests:
“The silver lining of this dark corona
is that I’m not obliged to touch the fauna!”



Zip It
by Michael R. Burch

Trump pulled a cute stunt,
wore his pants back-to-front,
and now he’s the **** of bald jokes:
“Is he coming, or going?”
“Eeek! His diaper is showing!”
But it’s all much ado, says Snopes.



Mini-Ode to a Quickly Shrinking American Icon
by Michael R. Burch

Rudy, Rudy,
strange and colludy,
how does your pardon grow?
“With demons like hell’s
and progress like snails’
and criminals all in a row!”



Christmas is Coming
alternate lyrics by Michael R. Burch

Christmas is coming; Trump’s goose is getting plucked.
Please put the Ukraine in his pocketbook.
If you haven’t got the Ukraine, some bartered Kurds will do.
But if you’re short on blackmail, well, the yoke’s on you!

Christmas is coming and Rudy can’t make bail.
Please send LARGE donations, or the Cause may fail.
If you haven’t got a billion, five hundred mil will do.
But if you’re short on cash, the LASH will fall on you!

Keywords/Tags: Trump, Donald Trump, poems, epigrams, quotes, quotations, Rudy Giuliani, Ted Cruz, Cancun, Christmas, evil, democracy, coup, treason, treasonous, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, couplet, humor, humorous, Clorox, Lysol, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, America



In My House
by Michael R. Burch

I was once the only caucasian in the software company I founded and managed. I had two fine young black programmers working for me, and they both had keys to my house. This poem looks back to the dark days of slavery and the Civil War it produced.

When you were in my house
you were not free—
in chains bound.

"Manifest Destiny?"

I was wrong;
my plantation burned to the ground.
I was wrong.

This is my song,
this is my plea:
I was wrong.

When you are in my house,
now, I am not free.

I feel the song
hurling itself back at me.

We were wrong.
This is my history.

I feel my tongue
stilting accordingly.

We were wrong;
brother, forgive me.

Published by Black Medina

Keywords/Tags: Race, Racism, Black Lives Matter, Equality, Brotherhood, Fraternity, Sisterhood, Tolerance, Acceptance, Civil Rights



Instruction
by Michael R. Burch

Toss this poem aside
to the filigreed and the prettified tide
of sunset.

Strike my name,
and still it is all the same.
The onset

of night is in the despairing skies;
each hut shuts its bright bewildered eyes.
The wind sighs

and my heart sighs with her—
my only companion, O Lovely Drifter!
Still, men are not wise.

The moon appears; the arms of the wind lift her,
pooling the light of her silver portent,
while men, impatient,

are beings of hurried and harried despair.
Now willows entangle their fragrant hair.
Men sleep.

Cornsilk tassels the moonbright air.
Deep is the sea; the stars are fair.
I reap.

Originally published by Romantics Quarterly


Published as the collection "Not-So-Heroic Couplets"

A CLOWN IS...

A ~ one of a kind

C ~ CRAZY Clown
L ~ LAZY Clown
O ~ ORNERY or FUNNY Clown
W ~ WHITEFACED Clown
N ~ NONSENSICAL Clown

A Clown can make one happy
A Clown can look very sad
A Clown can be called Apple Annie
And wear an Apple on her head.

A Clown comes with many names
It depends on who they are.
There was a Hobo Clown named Emmett Kelly, Jr.
Who always made me sad,
for he wore old rags, and walked real slow,
But he wasn't very scary, for that I was real glad.

And then there was BOZO the clown
Whose horn he beeped, and beeped and beeped
At least he was a funny Clown,
He never wore a frown.

The scary one was Penneywise the dancing Clown
From the movie IT...
He was the scariest Clown I ever saw
Fingers real long, and he lived in a sewer.
Now since I love dancing, one would
think he was my favorite...for he was
called the dancing Clown.
But when he climbed out of the sewer,
and hid behind the doors,
Let me tell you folks,
I wasn't watching any more...

But let me add my favorite Clown
Her name is Polka Dot...
She's been my friend for 60 years
She keeps me laughing, even when
she's not in costume...
Polka Dot's real name is Ginney Jean
She IS A CLOWN my favorite kind of friend.

by ~ judy

it feels less pathological
writing about / in a family environment
when so many familial niches
basically **** up;
sounds a bit like: 'oh look 'ere,
'ere comes bozo the didgeridoo *******,
with stories swelling with
only a memory of a single night
in philadephia, all else a marathon
of egoism exploding spontaneously
just in order to keep it up,'
survive the competitive race of dying an
old man, and saying old age isn't
what the slavic maxim states -
starość nie radość (old age isn't happiness) -
seriously, if it was so much about ******
encounters, and cockerel cigars
with a reversal of mouths stuffing pretty
***** sunshine i'd tell you
that the worst combination of theory
came with freudian darwinism - the plague
paralleled with 20th century's dictatorial atheism.
LEARN TO PET ANIMALS BEFORE ATTEMPTING
TO RAISE CHILDREN BOZO!

BRIANO ALLIANO PERFORMING ON THE SUN




HI DUDES AND NOW, TO HOPEFULLY FREE MY SPIRIT, LET’S SCARE AWAY THESE TERRORISTS

FROME EVER GETTING US, THE FIRST SONG IS I’M A HOOLIGAN, PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS


YOU SEE, WHEN I WAS YOUNG YOU SEE

I WAS A TAD DIFFERENT YA SEE

I HATED WHAT THE WORLD HAD IN STORE FOR ME

SO I DEVELOPED MY NEW BRAND OF HOOLIGAN

YOU SEE, PEOPLE SAY TO ME SILLLY THINGS

LIKE HOOLIGANS TEASE FOR ME

I WENT OUT AND PLAYED COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS NOW

AND I SANG

I AM A HOOLIGAN, PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE A YEAH MATE YEAH KID

I SAY I AM A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

BUT REALLY I AM A DIFFERENT KIND OF COOL KID, YEAH

YOU SEE SOME BIG BOZO NICKED MY LUNCH

AND SAID DON’T GET KIDNAPPED BE LIKE US

CAUSE HE WANTED TO PROTECT ME FROM THE HOOLIGANS YEAH

HE SAID, NO DUDE, HOOLIGANS TEASE FOR ME

AND HAVE A NICE HOT CUP OF TEA OR COFFEE

AND PLAY COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS, LIKE A HOOLIGAN

YA SEE, I AM A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

I HATE THE LIFE OF A BORING FAMILY, LIKE MINE WAS AT THE PRESENT

BUT I LIVE IN THE PRESENT, FOR A PRESENT OH DEAR

I AM A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS, WHO JUST WANNA GO TO BED

YOU SEE AS I DO MY TAPESTRY, I SIT THERE SMILING AT YOU

CAUSE YOUR A LITTLE FAMILY KID, WHO PLAYS AROUND WITH MYSELF

BUT I CAN CREATE AN IMAGINARY FAMILY OUT OF ALL THE IMAGES IN MY HEAD

I TRY AND SAY I AM NOT A PHEDAPHILE, I’M A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS ALL DAY LONG

I AM A HOOLIGAM PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

I AM BEING TOLD TO GO TO BED TO MUCK FAMILY FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

MY FEET ARE PLANTED ON THE FLOOR, YA SEE I AM A HOOLIGAN A HOOLIGAN A HOOLIGAN

PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE

YOU SEE, THE VISIONS OF OLD FOGIES YEAH

TREATING ME LIKE A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS, YEAH MATE YEAH

REALLY DUDES, I AM NOT A YEAH MATE YEAH KID ANYMORE, I WAS TRYING TO BE A HOOLIGAN, THIS IS HOW IT GOES

I WAS A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

I DON’T CARE WHAT THEY SAY, I JUST WANTED TO BE A HOOLIGAN

I WAS TOO YOUNG TO UNDERSTAND THE DANGERS OF WHAT HOOLIGANS FACE

I WAS PLAYING, OH PLAYING, YEAH I WAS PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS EVERY DAY


AND NOW HERE IS KIDNAP MY SOUL


I WANT THEV TERRORISTS TO KIDNAP MY SOUL, GET RID OF MY LITTLE YEAH MATE YEAH KID

I WANT TO FACE THEV WORLD ALONE, YEAH I HAVE TO BE CAREFUL YEAH

I DON’T WANT THE TERRORISTS TO REALLY GET ME, I AM NOT STUPID, MAN

BUT I WANT TO RID THIS SILLY VOICE, TRYING TO MAKE ME REMIND ME IM USED TO BE A HOOLIGAN

I KNOW, I WILL BE A TV STAR, OR I HAVE TO DO, I9S PARTY

AND IF I SOUND BORING, YEAH MATE YEAH

I HAVE TO WORK ON MY VOICE

I KNOW, I WAS A HOOLIGAN WHEN I LIVED IN WOODBERRY

BECAUSE, I HAD NO KNOWLEDGE, I HAD NO ENERGY

I WAS JUST ISOLATED IN MY ROOM

I KNOW, ALL I DO NOW IS MY COMPUTER, BUT I CAN BE COOL AS WELL

I GO OUT TO FUN EVENTS, YEAH MATE YEAH I AM COOL

AND I WANT THEM TO COME AND KIDNAP MY SOUL

AND WHISK ME AWAY, OH YEAH, I LIKED BEING A DIFFERENT PERSON

AND UNTILL I LEARNT THE TRUTH, BEING A HOOLIGAN WAS FUN AS WELL

PLEASE UNLEASH MY WOODBERRY SPIRIT, AND ALLOW ME TO WASH AWAY MY SPIRIT OH YEAH

DON’T MAKE ME ALWAYS REGRET, SOME CRIME, I DID UMPTEEN YEARS AGO

I WAS ONLY A HOOLIGAN CAUSE OF LAST 2 HUMAN LIVES KIDNAPPED AND KILLED AT 8

PLEASE, ALLOW ME, TIME TO GET OUT OF THIS LIFE

CAUSE, MY FAMILY THINKS IT’S COOL TO TREAT ME SHY

IF I AM SHY, I AM A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS, WHICH MY FAMILY ARE

YEAH, THEY HAVE FUN, BUT I PREFER THE SHAYTARDS, CAUSE I AM A COOLER FAMILY MAN

YESTERDAY I WAS GIVEN IMAGES OF MY MUM EATING LIKE A SCHITZOPHRENIC

AND, I HAVE WEIRD VIBES, WHEN I SOMETIMES EAT THERE, I CAN’T HELP IT, I JUST WANTED BACK THEN

TO BE A HOOLIGAN, PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS,

COMING TO KIDNAP MY FUCKEN SOUL

I AM DIFFERENT FROM MY FAMILY, CAUSE THEY ARE CHRISTIANS OR NICE TO CHRISTIANS

I TRY AND BE NICE TO ME, CAUSE I AM A BUDDHIST, WHO IS BEING PUSHED DOWN

TO BE A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS EVERY DAY

AND AS I SIT UP HERE ON THE MOON, I SAY, LOOK AT THOSE YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

BEING ****** IN TO FAMILY LIFE, AND I AM TRYING TO GET REFORMED FROM

A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

CAUSE, MY LIFE IS GREAT, BUT STILL I SUFFER

BUT I STILL PREFER TO BE A BUDDHIST ARTIST WRITER AND YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

THAN A UNEMPLOYED ***, EVERYONE WANTS THE PERFECT LIFE

WHY I CAN’T I BE ONE OF THE FUNLOVERS, DUDES

OR DO YOU WANT ME TO BE A HOOLIGAN PLAYING COOL FOR YEAH MATE YEAH KIDS

WHO GO TO BED SAYING THEY ARE OLD TIME *******

HELLO OLD, I AM BRIAN

Come join the unraveling circus
quite soon to be passing our way,
with the clowns in a clamor to twerk us -
line up as they lead us astray!

Arriving, the elephant trumpets
agendas of aberrant acts
while the donkeys drool, dunking their crumpets
and twirlers spin, twisting the facts.

The big top’s now open to breezes,
so pundits soar spreading their wings
to convince us to tread the trapezes,
for it's they who'll be pulling the strings.

The merry-go-round’s so amazing
(black horses bound, chasing the cart)
as the brass ring of change wanders wildly
till stealing straight back to the start.

The moldy old model of Ptolemy
(at the hub of this three ring domain)
mixes marvels of magic with alchemy
in the bowels of the mastodon’s brain.

Neglecting the gulls who’ll be eating
stale crumbs that have dropped from the plate,
the vain vulture of virtue’s oft tweeting  
of Circus Land once again great.

The tamer, adorned in fine trumpery
(pate garnished with fiery mane)
has endeavored to wall the ring's boundary,
keep millipede migrants in rein.

The dwarves and their antics are funny
while juggling to balance the books,
so the titans laugh, grappling the money
extracted by hook or by crooks.

The sideshows provide a composite
of fails of the frizzed billionaire,
some disclosing the bones in his closet
caught clutched in the arms of the bear.
    
From towers the trumpet is blowing
fake messages, fetid but full,
but as long as the cattle keep lowing,
he’ll hasten to serve them the bull.

The masses, persuaded to follow,
float foolishly into the fog
overwhelmed by the vapors they swallow,
choked up like the ruff-collared dog.

The snap of the whip as it whooshes
maintains the domains of the dupes
so the cats won’t escape to the bushes,
refusing to hop through the hoops.

With the promise to call out the cavalry,
the hearts of the crowds beat athrob
for in spite of their struggles and rivalry
the Don’s still controlling the mob.

Humbled Empress on *******’s hilarious,
parading her ***** and mules,
with her fabulous tales (mostly spurious)
wagging only the naive and fools.

Mounting ponies in circles, she rode 'em
through lobbies where influence crawls
with her claws clinging tight to the totem
while seals on the banks balanced *****.

Yes, the pack’s still pre-paid by the PAC men,
some wolfing their ways through the maze,
while fey fables are hawked by the packmen
who canvass our eyes with a glaze.

The pretender defender of females
is actu'ly one of the hawks;
secrets hidden in spills of her re-mails
means pillory, stuck in the stocks.

The swine in the central arenas
(immersed in the fat of the throne)
begin dancing like wee ballerinas
’fore pitching the proles a bare bone.

Jesters Cruzo and Bozo, while boozin'
(dealt cards which were ******* by the ****),
ruled “not winning the hand would be losin’
and need for an armed Minuteman.”

Well the ray gun's still loaded and toted
(the gall’ry forbidding all bans)
and the NRA gang’s become bloated
shooting **** in the face of the fans.

One day when the mad house has folded
and sawdust’s been wafted aside,
Human Race will be racing, remolded,
surmounting life’s hurdles in stride.

Not sure why yard sales didn’t make the Stress Scale ‘cause the uptick in adrenaline, the ramped-up apprehension of letting stuff go, especially stuff that's been around for a while, the feeling of loss, picturing someone with your old stuffed pony, it’s painful.

This saying goodbye to things brings an emotional dilemma, a mixed-up sense of knowing it's high time for the thing-a-ma-bob with no actual relevance, to be dumped while some queasy feeling of unexpected meaning to the thing erupts.  

And an inner kid sputters, "No, please not my wacha-ma-call-it, no, I’m not ready yet.” or your favorite uncle's favorite chipped ashtray along with the obnoxious bric-a-brac, knick-knack, from; who was it again, suddenly becomes the Hope Diamond.

Yep, yard sales are tough, your private junk out for all the world, to ******, to turn upside down and sour-faced putting it down, as you breathe a sigh of relief the bozo didn’t take home your treasured, dusty paper weight with the faded shamrock inside.

Seriously, yard sales are like putting your whole life on the front page, exposed to strangers, because friends with your best interest in mind, tell you to simplify, clean out, move on, start anew after they’ve witnessed your life fly apart…

Like a paper napkin flies up into a gust of wind, swirls upwards  catches forever on a branch and these self-same, well-meaning pals are incapable of your need to keep the rusty tea kettle, the one you boiled water in to make tea for your sweetheart every day.

Then, when finally you’ve sorted through it all and it’s laid out defenseless in the grass, beside the “House for Sale” sign, you spot some **** fool, your dead mother's "Old Faithful" trivet held high, the one she got on the only vacation she ever had, yelling,  "Hey sis, will ya take a dime for this?"

And the raindrops begin to fall.

My belly, a pimpled basketball, 
puffed with pasta, 
and my chest, just a hoop and a net, swishing wine through.
Spent my last ***
on cookies and cakes
stuffing my cheeks in backwards
with gushing gobs and slushy slimes.
I go mad like a fat queen.
my hot mouth, 
now a thick, cocoa-creamy swirl, 
as it turns into a custard-filled pastry of its own. 

I do what I can to feel bliss among ****.
Try to ignore the flies fizzing like seltzer.
The candy wrappers scattered wherever 
like broken-into envelopes.
I feel a large thumb press, press, press
my skull to my ankles. 

Tossing chocolate chunks square into
my throat like bozo buckets.
After a while
It stops being "eating"  
and turns into a factory of into me and out of me.
In the end, the delicious part always gets too salty and 
salt over salt is trash
and nothing stays
an ****** for more than a couple 
pinches of this or that.

my body yells at me, because it wants nothing more but to 
**** devil-face with those teeny-tiny, delicious
throbbing minutes. 
I can't feel my life
and so I have to eat dinner on the floor.

Night fell on Montmartre and, gazing into my love's eyes
Over a candelit chequered tablecloth,
Beneath my belt lurked rancid lust,
The seams of my ******* oozing desire,
My groin drenched in desire for his wanton ****-flesh.

Streetlight shone through threadbare curtains
Harnessing proudly over my twitching buttocks;
My screamed climaxes echoing
In deepest recesses of Parisian dawnings.
My clear goal: swallow his salty comings.

Morning exposes a sordid scene to chambermaid's gawp:
Spreadeagled cold-as-chilled-salami bozo,
Puny synapses crushed like mashed strawberries
Blasted smithereens of overpowering *******
Like chicken's entrails in an unwashed sink.

El Mascarón. ¡Mirad el mascarón!
¡Cómo viene del África a New York!

Se fueron los árboles de la pimienta,
los pequeños botones de fósforo.
Se fueron los camellos de carne desgarrada
y los valles de luz que el cisne levantaba con el pico.

Era el momento de las cosas secas,
de la espiga en el ojo y el gato laminado,
del óxido de hierro de los grandes puentes
y el definitivo silencio del corcho.

Era la gran reunión de los animales muertos,
traspasados por las espadas de la luz;
la alegría eterna del hipopótamo con las pezuñas de ceniza
y de la gacela con una siempreviva en la garganta.

En la marchita soledad sin honda
el abollado mascarón danzaba.
Medio lado del mundo era de arena,
mercurio y sol dormido el otro medio.

El mascarón. ¡Mirad el mascarón!
¡Arena, caimán y miedo sobre Nueva York!

Desfiladeros de cal aprisionaban un cielo vacío
donde sonaban las voces de los que mueren bajo el guano.
Un cielo mondado y puro, idéntico a sí mismo,
con el bozo y lirio agudo de sus montañas invisibles,

acabó con los más leves tallitos del canto
y se fue al diluvio empaquetado de la savia,
a través del descanso de los últimos desfiles,
levantando con el rabo pedazos de espejo.

Cuando el chino lloraba en el tejado
sin encontrar el desnudo de su mujer
y el director del banco observaba el manómetro
que mide el cruel silencio de la moneda,
el mascarón llegaba al Wall Street.

No es extraño para la danza
este columbario que pone los ojos amarillos.
De la esfinge a la caja de caudales hay un hilo tenso
que atraviesa el corazón de todos los niños pobres.
El ímpetu primitivo baila con el ímpetu mecánico,
ignorantes en su frenesí de la luz original.
Porque si la rueda olvida su fórmula,
ya puede cantar desnuda con las manadas de caballos;
y si una llama quema los helados proyectos,
el cielo tendrá que huir ante el tumulto de las ventanas.
No es extraño este sitio para la danza, yo lo digo.
El mascarón bailará entre columnas de sangre y de números,
entre huracanes de oro y gemidos de obreros parados
que aullarán, noche oscura, por tu tiempo sin luces,
¡oh salvaje Norteamérica! ¡oh impúdica! ¡oh salvaje,
tendida en la frontera de la nieve!

El mascarón. ¡Mirad el mascarón!
¡Qué ola de fango y luciérnaga sobre Nueva York!

Yo estaba en la terraza luchando con la luna.
Enjambres de ventanas acribillaban un muslo de la noche.
En mis ojos bebían las dulces vacas de los cielos.
Y las brisas de largos remos
golpeaban los cenicientos cristales de Broadway.

La gota de sangre buscaba la luz de la yema del astro
para fingir una muerta semilla de manzana.
El aire de la llanura, empujado por los pastores,
temblaba con un miedo de molusco sin concha.

Pero no son los muertos los que bailan,
estoy seguro.
Los muertos están embebidos, devorando sus propias manos.
Son los otros los que bailan con el mascarón y su vihuela;
son los otros, los borrachos de plata, los hombres fríos,
los que crecen en el cruce de los muslos y llamas duras,
los que buscan la lombriz en el paisaje de las escaleras,
los que beben en el banco lágrimas de niña muerta
o los que comen por las esquinas diminutas pirámides del alba.

¡Que no baile el Papa!
¡No, que no baile el Papa!
Ni el Rey,
ni el millonario de dientes azules,
ni las bailarinas secas de las catedrales,
ni construcciones, ni esmeraldas, ni locos, ni sodomitas.
Sólo este mascarón,
este mascarón de vieja escarlatina,
¡sólo este mascarón!

Que ya las cobras silbarán por los últimos pisos,
que ya las ortigas estremecerán patios y terrazas,
que ya la Bolsa será una pirámide de musgo,
que ya vendrán lianas después de los fusiles
y muy pronto, muy pronto, muy pronto.
¡Ay, Wall Street!

El mascarón. ¡Mirad el mascarón!
¡Cómo escupe veneno de bosque
por la angustia imperfecta de Nueva York!

Now, listen here, Bozo...
You had no right to up
and go where even the
silvered back of
my mirror can't access.

Can't blame you though.

I've heard from
outside sources
that the Wonderland
through your looking-glass
is wholly wonderful.

My husband
is a bozo
He always blows it

Just last night,
we got into a taxi
and he went back to the house
to let the cat out
and while waiting
I told the taxi driver
who asked what was happening:
“Oh, he’s gone in
to say good night to my mom”
(sure I lied, there was no one in –
but I  didn’t want the taxi driver to know that)

And soon my husband got back into the taxi
loud and boisterous and cursing as usual:
“Oh, sorry I took so long…****! That
stupid thing was hiding under the bed
and I had to push her with that broomstick
and then I used the bamboo pole
to get it out of hiding!
I was gentle and careful, of course.
She can sometimes be a *****!”

There's one "special" Holiday, in the **** can I will toss
The Pagan Calibration, of fricking Santa Claus
-
If that ****** Bozo, down my chimney tries to come
I’ll blow his *** away, and beat it like a drum
-
Then I’ll shoot his Reindeer, I’ll have a jolly feast
Hey Rudolf Dancer Prancer, you will be deceased
-
All the Queerass little elves, I’ll blow away as well
And that stinking slay, I will go and sell
-
To the North Poll I will go, with an Atom Bomb
500 megatons!! And drop it with aplomb
-
December 25th, from the calendar I'll wipe
And all the goody-goody "Good Cheer", and all the Farceass Hype

{If you are getting the notion that I don't like Christmas, you are right! Why? I think it's blasphemous to associate the birth of Christ with a Pagan Holiday} {AND the way it's celebrated !!!}

Bozo was a funny clown
with a funny wig
and a big nose reddish brown
with one shoe too big

on his shirt he wore a flower
made to water squirt
with it young girl's he would shower
and then with them flirt

but his career quickly ended
from being a funny clown
when one day he got caught red handed
with his ***** pants down

Unimpressed
As she was
By all the things
He had commonly
Stood out about
He rose higher
And stood out more
Many an otherwise
Unremarkable
Unimpressed girl
Brought about
Genius
In some bozo on the bus
Still on for the stop
Anonymously
The spark which started the fire in he

Thudding walls calamity crash
bozo bongo beatitude drinkatude
splashing chi whisky against amaretto amethyst ice mountains  
wallowing winds whisper storm clouds
and tidal waves
weaving
in and out of bodies like a titanium knife
glistening like the moon.
and i sit on top of a mountain
watching,
waiting for the mercurial air & water elements
to swallow me like a dab of LSD.

"Let's go drown in each other's emotions!"
I shout, the words echoing
as the storm grows and the foaming water
churns and splashes in the wee hours of the morning...

Do I look together?
The picture of finesse?
I'm just a fleck of nothing.
A flit of consciousness.

I'm not all that wise
Tho I like to kid myself
I'm a bozo on the bus
Like everybody else.

Can I say that I am weak?
Hurting? Often wrong?
If I didn't have The Lord,
You know I'm not that strong.

I'm in system overload
And I'm kept awake
My life is a disaster
My sanity's at stake!

I want you all to like me
I people please, you see.
I find it very hard at times
To exhale and just be me!

Yes. Right now I'm holding breath!
I can't even wheeze,
Because I fear your judgement
I can't find release!

But I guess the truth
Is sometimes hard to find
So I'll just muddle on right here
Speechless deaf and blind

Can you all relate to this?
I tell you it's true
I'm hanging on by cobwebs...

... maybe JUST LIKE YOU.


/:-(   Catherine

i'm slowly figuring out how it works...
"content creators" always boast about their number
of members... but? rarely...
their viewership counts ever match
to their number of members...
rarely... they might have a membership
count of 200K but their videos probably
mean at about 70K... it's a game of give and take...

me? hmm... well... me...
    one website? 142 "members"...
         another website 181 "members"...
i'm always happy when i exceed my "membership":
when writing i always aim at that: exceeding...
with 181 "members" i managed to accumulate
a viewership of... nearing to 50,000...
not bad... that's how Pythagoras and Jesus achieved
their fame... start little: grow big...
out of? well... the natural worth of your worth...

i was just re-watching Jurassic Park today...
hold hold... in between cleaning the house...
hold hold...
how the **** is man certain of his own
psychology and socio-political dynamism
while at the same time so ******* certain
about the ontology of dinosaurs?!
fossils read: the T-Rex is movement sensitive?!
so... he... can't smell you?
let alone see you when you don't move?!
for ****'s sake! the Shakespeare of cinema!
Spielberg! *******!
              
i recently watched an advert: it's true:
you taste food by sniffing it...
i can quickly drink a diluted bottle of black cherry
squash... i taste nothing:
because i'm glug glug glug
drinking it... i refrain from drinking i start sniffing:
it's like my nose dives into the oesophagus
and retracts what i was just drinking:

you sure it wasn't some strong salt (alkaline)
or some... sugar? are acids sugars?!
well if there's a corrosive salt...
shouldn't the antonym be: a strong sugar?
aren't acids really strong sugars?
citric... yeah... they are...
strong acids are sugars as strong....
****... strong sugars are acids
and strong salts are alkaline...
                        BOZO WATER BOY...
d'uh!
        get out y'er spazz-mr.fantastic-face-douzoh...

how?! reading ******* fossils?!
FAKE NEWS... wait for the rumble... wait...
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.... FAKE HISTORY...
from what? reading fossils?! we knew how
dinosaurs behaved?
                             wow! oh! ah ha ha ha ha!
wow! the selling gimmick in full shwing!
boys! girls! we don't need the swings!
just listen to these ******* try to sell you toilet paper!
seriously...
and for a while i was like:
oh yes yes... that's how dinosaurs behaved...
from a flimsy ******* film with by the current
year: ever more ****** CGI...

                oh man... the velociraptor was a wolf
of its species... sure... now all the dinosaurs are birds...
morphed into birds... birds are small...
dinosaurs were big...
hmm... what's smaller than birds?
insects... ergo?
there must have been a kind of animal
akin to insects that lived prior to dinosaurs that
were also large... ******* gigantic
morphs of mosquitos...
if the dinosaurs adapted to become birds...
although: spies! spies i tell you!
spies! snakes and crocodiles!
rationality makes no sense given enough time...
best aim for ice-cream and brain-freeze...
seriously... **** it...
it's not like anyone is going to remember this
century like any other century given
the time expanse we've allowed ourselves to give!

what i am curious about though is...
DRAGONS...
right... it was inbuilt into our psyche to conjure
dragons: long before we unearthed
fossils of dinosaurs...
dragons... fire breathing creatures...
what killed the dinosaurs?
the day the moon went to sleep or was like:
**** it... have to keep the tides...
might as well get rid of these gigantic Goliath-Nimrods...
eh... i'm sure something stupider and more
entertaining will take their place...
BAM! fire! a meteor hit the earth: lizards breathing
fire... DRAGONS... how do we know this?
is this dream-talk? do people dream-up this
*******? me? i don't dream-up ****... i just sleep...
i admire the people who can fall asleep
in transit: on a bus or on a plane...
me? i'm bothered by the imaginary fidget-bugs
of keeping composure and pretending
to allocate time to my mind as i measure
mental minutes to actual mechanised minutes
of a clock... i always get it WONG... revelations
of lost vibrations... esp. in flight...

where do these anti-history i.e. pre-history stories
come from? fossils? ******* dinosaur fossils?!
we know how a certain type of dinosaur
behaved based on their ******* fossils?
wow! we should dig up Elizabeth Bathory
and Cleopatra and tell apart which bathed in milk
and which in ****** blood... i'd... FFFFFFucking love
to know how fossils tell which apart!

it's just ******* silly... i'm semi-drunk semi-sober
i'm bordering on arrogance: clearly mad...
because... this... gradual increment of a collective narrative
that was supposed to be soothing?
isn't soothing anymore...
                  i'm turning my mind toward solipsism...
not unlike an actual medical claim of autism:
but as a theoretical: only i exist...
whoever i encounter?
inauthenticity... actors...
                 people of shallow depth...
after all... what's the most popular artistic expression
in our society? isn't it, acting?! it's not painting...
it's not poetry... ergo?
     fake... fake...           oh: more fake.... fake...
actors have become brutal in the dealings of
every man in how he or she might interact with
fellow ever man or woman...
absolutely brutal: tyrannical!

that's how i saw it: the devil ascending: monarchy...
a god descending: tyranny...
there is a clarifying distinction that can be
summarised by the continued existence of England...
a country my heart is enthralled by...
and forever will be...

yeah... sure sure... looking up the gorilla's *******
to figure out our ontology... great!
it's not like we didn't have sages in the past...
it's beyond "god is dead": "jesus is dead":
it's already a common name in Spain...
hey-zeus... Darwinism won like the Copernican revolution
never envisioned it: after all...
Galileo robbed Copernicus of his discovery
because he had the telescope and became the martyr...

with one swift move: a god died and the gods
were reborn...
but jesus is dead too...
why? who's imitating him?
Darwinism teaches the universality of imitation-monkey!
imitation-lobster imitation-ant!
no? isn't that what the secular psychologists are
preaching?! "evolutionary psychologists"?!
evolutionary: partially... there's still no concensus
on "soul": i.e. sigma: the totality of what's being...
not ontology: i.e. being qua...
rather what's "motivating" being: what's WILL...
the ****** of existence per se...

no no... i can't think of existence as merely summarised
as simply: "experience"...
we don't know how dinosaurs behaved...
it's POP CULTURE ****...
we don't know! we will never know!
i hate living in this fantasy world...
really? a meteor killed them off?
a freak accident... but i thought the moon was
the shield against all other meteors...
and most meteors burn out when reaching our
atmosphere...

listen... the Biblical strand of the story is: POETIC...
it's simplified...
it's like... journalism on an everyday basis:
the difference being: it's repeated day in day out...
it's journalism of a Groundhog Day...
i admit: pretty **** ******...
but the secular aversion to this?
             mein gott... when it's right... akin to chemistry,
biology, physics, medicine and engineering...
fair enough... grounded in reality...
but when these disciplines becomes... "humanised"...
all hell breaks loose!
did i forget geology? oops...
            these are disciplines of the demigods!
they are not to be trivialised!
made into narratives! they are strict rubric sentiments
of complimenting chaos with man's ingenuity
of crafting a sense of order!

yeah: wow me... 181 "members" that morphs
into an audience of reaching 50,000...
unlike those video guys with 50,000 members
and an average of half of those members switching
off... with some roundabout clued-in *******
****-jobs...
the revised ingenuity of internet anonymity:
oh sure sure... i'll just buy a book and leave
a comment in the comment section
of the book's back pages that no one:
esp. the author is going to read...
                          title: make your own mind up!
i'm alone: you're alone, we're all alone
in this ****-wit buggery of all sorts!

/if there is but one use for Freudian theoretics, for a man who has jargon for dreams, or a man who rarely summons a need to dream, for a man who does not have the luxury of a dream worth interpretation, for a man who has not dreamt a recurring dream...

it is far easier to summon
a woman, within the hour,
to the confines of a brothel
room,
    unshackeling her
from the vengence of
artimesia and binding her
to: breaking the sacred
taboo of swallowing
a kiss...
      
        than it will ever be...
to summon a woman to the liberty
of equal fortitude in
playing the role of atom,
  father, son, brother...
      
far sooner a woman from a *****
comes, than a woman
from the ivory tower, cold cut
marble, halo labyrinth,
spotless "madonna"...

   for whatever the need for Freud these
days, i am adamant on
this one church gong echo...
   that Hades could only shed tears
when Cerberus died,
and Charon replaced him in
claustrophobic confines of deity...

after the wake, having slyly laughed
at my great-grandmother's funeral,
i gnashed my teeth hard enough
to scrub off a chip off my incisor,
and toyed with a red rose,
tickling it with a candleflame,
until i, managed to persuade
a bozo cardinal to step into a role
of a humble bishop,
    attired in a rare hue of burgundy,
namely a blood-purple
      mishap of what would otherwise
become: that glaring,  ******* red
of those would-be Kippah donning
Vatican mafiosos...

however much the tedium of a German
thinker, as far removed he might have
been from the airy fairy pancake square-i.e.i.e.  
starry ******* stay-ree?
    squack-diddly- a ******* toobah boo -
Belshezar receiving the paranormal
scribble in Timbaktu?
     squarry... rhombus... alias:
   some sort of etching resembling 90 x 4...

nonetheless: even the most tedious german
thinker.... will be more fathomable
to me, in techniqlaity over style,
over the hot-air balloon contra
zeppelin London bombardment of
french thinkers...
          
          as ever: building on national
stereotypes...
                       sure, had I been native geboren
und spreschen...
the French would appeal to me...
as novelists? hands down...
      no tin drum (perhaps
due to the eng'flush)...
                  or suma summarum
ping (cogito) | pong (sum)
                       Thai for:
**** 'ou lon' thai'm,
                       and then the *******
juggle and gamble
asking for a new version of
the niqab to, expose
the feminine parts...
     chubby Arab mama's hands...
who d' pretty niqab fwend eye
if not rottweiler hazel...
   swarovsky inorganic crystal
blue... hence the Madonna
and the halo labyrinth...

   far easier to stomach the tedium
of a German technician,
than a fence-tinkerer...
   namely gilles deleuze
                      and félix guattari,
since no one is about to call
out names,
   the western plague of premature
depression...
   ontologically old age is predisposed
to melancholy...
    the joy of building a home,
and the sadness, of settling in it
up in completion,
   but depression, and so early?
synthetic, unnatural,
                            cognitive malnutrition.

far easier to summon a woman
from the depth of prostitution,
than it is to summon a woman
from the height of the ****** birth,
and countless the number of
ways a woman can show her honesty,
than act out a juggling act...
how close am i to the materialistic
reading of Oedipus,
   by prodingoutside
              the siamese gene pool?

not far from the mantra of the mantis:
to stand a woman,
a man must disappear...
    hence the madonna reign...

monogamy among animals is more
mysterious than the thought
of god in man...
                   each to his harem and
a pound of flesh each night, thoroughly
funfaired...

      a woman from the depths
of prostitution, even if for an hour...
    it's enough that I have to stand my own
thinking, let alone
            to act in devistion from it...
that I'd have to submerge beneath
   the caucus of agony aunts and astrologers
to amplify,
    what remains,
     otherwise hidden,
   an executioner's transaction...
                    as the remnant daughters
toy the nest.

perhaps this is all but a puritanical
cleft of exhausting youthful swoons prior
to the plunge into responsibility...
     odd... i don't seem to recall ever
signing a contract,
     whereby I,  as an "individual" stressed,
was somehow to rationalise
the efforts of the collective in continuum,
who, somehow, magically found
Genesis Africa...
      but... somehow... can't tell me...
whereabouts, that Dodo Rock actually
fell and made such a great indentation...
dunno... maybe Sahara was
a great mountain range akin to
the Himalayas, given the transition
period of:

Himalayas - Dead Horse, Utah - Sahara.

I don't laugh, gawk and point
At one who falls down;
Unless that one's a clown,
And we've plenty to go around.
Crusty's in the Kremlin,
He's got an act with dogs;
Freddie's in the U.N.,
Freeloading from his friends;
Bozo's in a big white house,
And I'm bent with tears laughin'.

Sanmati, my guide, though is callow
Abnormal not in knowledge, not a bozo.
Negotiates well joy broad or narrow;
Merry as a lamb, sharp as an arrow –
Agile as a gymnast, as sweet as a cello.
Time and again found, never let her gizmo,
Ignoring angry love or any strict credo
Jib her down to cry and sit quietly in shadow.
Almighty will design her future like dido
Illuminating the world with skills and less ego.
Never be dull or extra-ordinary – no one follow.

They played gravel pit while people packed into the courtyard.
It made me think of you.
I'm sorry I didn't take more pictures.

It's hard to tell who's lonely in the dark.
It's hard to hear the shouts of those standing next to me
over the sound of the bass guitar rattling my ear drums.

And that ******* *****
that kept shoving into me.
I wanted to shove my elbow into her gut
to settle her down.
"People don't understand, these songs demand movement," she slurred
with her tacky bozo-red hair.

My feet are in puddles of booz.
I breathe in secondhand air
that tastes of beer.

The fog is thick
and mixes with the smoke of a thousand spliffs.
I wanted a contact high.
I wanted the opening band to give it a rest
so the band I came here to see could play.

But mostly I wanted you there
holding my hips while I swayed to the music.
And on the way home
when I stuck my head out of the window of a moving car
in order to feel something.
Not alive.
But whole.

Goose bumps sprang up on my arms
as dew clung to the warmth of my flesh.
The chill felt so right after all the heat.

Gasping,
as air whipped up into my nostrils
and down into my eager lungs.

I wanted you there.
Over a plate of salty fries,
talking about everything and nothing.

My greatest fear is that I'll never cease missing you
because you'll always be far away.

being hassled by the local drug dealers

and downtown shows- ***** fights

from drunken bozo’s

escape never no never escape

escape from downtown at night

people go crazy

I go crazy in a midnight bar with

others that surround me

I feel like throwing the chair at the window

the beer is not working

bars and clubs and people and city’s and buildings

take em’ all down

we don’t need them

we need quiet and peace sometimes

some never get quiet and peace until death comes over

I feel for them

Clowns faces
The clown was sitting and putting his make up on
A white face,a big red nose Red lips.
A smile or frown, he continues being a clown.
Baggy close or a ragged hat.
A big cigar or happy balloon
***** up hair or a red wig.
He can dance a good gig.
There are many clowns big ones small ones
Some old and some young.
Some make you cry with joy
Others make you laugh.
Many faces of a clown come with some funny names like bozo, ronald mc donald.
But the king of clown was red himself. Could make you laugh all night long
At the end, he would say, god bless you and good night.

when you find yourself
standing,
on the corner
of somewhere and desloate

holding a sheaf of sunbeams
whilst humming hopeful
show tunes
with a small nonedescript
black dog(you call bozo)
on a leash, lying belly up,
submisssive, at your side

that is when you have found
where recovery resides.

and when you know
way down in the abyss
inside
that you are looking at
a new way of being,
not necessarily
rose-tinted seeing.

and in that knowledge
you find the honesty
to decry...
that while, you be,
both living and visiting,
on the sunnyside.

that tho, somedays are fine,
some saltmine hard
and some too hard
to define....

despite all that
too-ing and fro-ing
all those tendril thoughts
and clouded over dark days
all the whispering
and bargaining fey things
your internal filmaker brings
to bear,
on the walls of your sanity
you will come through
with sunbeams glowing...

that is when you know...
....recovery
is the key to the lock
on a house...
                 in a suburb....
that does not have streets
named....

somewhere and desolate....