Mathilda is brutally murdered
Udolph is the obvious suspect
remembers everyone how she jilted him
David her last lover is inconsolable
Evan’s appearance raises suspicion
right before the ****** he met her
Ergot the butler had seen him going out
Rocky was with him could be an accomplice
Inspector Brown finds it a tough case
so many suspects but all with good alibi
Dr. Thomas isn’t sure about the cause of death
autopsy is necessary for the confirmation
visible though are the abrasions on her neck
Inspector Brown interrogates all the suspects
dogs are brought to find smells of trails.

A Dancing fever
spreads across
Deutschland from
ancient Roman City
Aachen

to far away
Madagascar where
proto-people
live, waking to morning
whooping calls
and fading habitat.

We can still find
preserved Lemurs
in Duke hospitals
and open zoo
for robust ring-tailed,
or dark cells
for the nocturnals.

Would they dance
too with us, in mass
hysteria,
irrational exuberance,
and ergot
poisoning if
only later converting
to a Science
belief-system new?

These kids,
They look so
Derelict,
They look so
Full of ****,
Like they could
Ever skip
The river styx
Crossing.
So rather
Than glossing
Over their eyes,
Maybe these guys
Should start
Flossing
The wrinkles
Of their brains
By tossing
Back a few
Infected grains,
It's Ergot that
Brings
What you forgot;
As in your face,
As big as
Great danes
Made of waves
Of color.
If fluorescent
Grays
Ever
Deliver me asunder....
It's so dull
Under
This counter,
My mind starts
To flounder
As I flip the
******* flounder.
Or is it
Tilapia?
I wonder,
Could I be
Happier?
Probably, but
Don't you know
I like it
Sappier?
Is that a word?
Who gives a ****?
Not this bird,
Thats why she's flying away,
Not toward
The veneer covered
Ways I say
"Come here."
"Go away."
"2 for fives two for fives,
****** got garbage around the way."
The way I pray
For acid rain
To melt my clothes,
My skin,
My muscles and veins,
My mostly drained
Trays of grease;
Popping.
Bubbling.
Please.
Please
Give my
Knees
Some ease
From their pains,
I've been begging
For weeks,
I need to sleep.

Summer lies while river rats gnaw on posts
weathered from the reverence tides.
Hunching over limestone slate,
picture ******-eyed states of the caricatures.

Loss of limbs in dissociative fugue.
St. Anthony's fire up along the coast.
Ergot Dreams: Such splendid things!

Waking up in a pool with callosum yarns
spinning words of concern.
And i've come so close
time and time
to find the pinhole tube light.

Words keep seeping out,
I hear my mother holding me here.
Frozen solid.
Stuck in a cot.
Letting the little ******* off his chain just to
hear him stream

How many lives to burn in the ecclesia pyre
while jesus sweeps the remainders
off to sea?

Maybe I have died again,
living in this ferrous skin.
Seeded fledgling after all.

O vicious household gods of Rome
you Manes, Lares, Muses, Fates
who justified patrician homes,
whose reign this poem celebrates,

Allow me now, in retrospect
to excavate, then analyze.
Depravity with cause, connect;
depriving you of alibis.

Relax your stiff noetic poise
as my plebeian pen records
through lyrical poetic noise
the crown imperial crime awards.

My lines, like foundlings, long to ****
a mother’s milk in measured draft
and dredge some gold from Tiber’s muck;
Lord Christ: illuminate my craft.

ROMULUS, let that wolf-*** go
and REMUS too – unlatch that breast…
milk of Etruscan madness, flow,
with empire’s crimes forthwith confessed.

We will not blame your leaden wares
nor ergot mold in rancid bread
for genocidal state affairs,
brutality, and martyred dead.

The Circus, leering, restless, loud,
cheers gladiatorial excess.
The haunted forum’s phantom-crowd
awaits the tyrant’s next address.

He speaks. The wind blows through the arches
stirring up the roadside litter.
Trumpets blare. The legion marches.
Empire’s aftertaste is bitter.

You were Antichrist. That is all.
We cannot dignify your past
or glorify from whence you fall
or praise the mold from which you’re cast.

Christ traveled far from Galilee –
came, saw, conquered – and on it goes.
Our king shall reign eternally;
that she-wolf’s milk no longer flows.

A starved fruit
is that,
of the open mouthed end,
to a warm,
bottle of wine
slugging back,
the bitter
disgust.

Reaping benefits
like ergot
off rye.

Tumultuous temptations,
shouting out
the window;
"I'll do it, I'll do it,
******* it, I'll do it"

One last look
into
the soul-******* rim,
of a warm,
bottle of wine.

Swimming into
the sediment,
gravity of cement,
drowning.

"I'll do it, ******* it,
I'll do it"

Madame, on dit que les bons comptes
Font les bons amis. Soit, comptons...
Comme dans les comptes des contes,
Par bœufs, par veaux et par moutons ;

Pris un jour une cigarette
De vous, dois : quatre-vingt-dix bœufs ;
À ton bouquet, une fleurette,
Peut-être une, peut-être deux,

Dois : quatre-vingts bœufs ; pour l'essence
Que ta lampe brûlait la nuit,
Mille moutons que je recense
Près du berger que son chien suit.

Pris à ta cuisine adorable
Un bout de pain, un doigt de vin,
Dois : une vache vénérable
Avec sa crèche de sapin.

Mangé sept de tes souveraines
Et célestes pommes au lard,
Dois : le taureau, roi des arènes,
Le plus férocement couillard.

Pour ton savon d'un blanc d'ivoire,
Je conviens qu'en l'usant, j'eus tort,
Dois : tous les veaux du champ de foire
Qui prononcent ME le plus fort.

Marché, la nuit, dans ta chaussure
Dont j'aplatissais le contour,
Dois : le prince de la luxure,
Le bouc le plus propre à l'amour.

Pour l'eau bue à ta cruche pleine,
La nuit, sur ton lit sans rideau,
Dois : le bélier avec sa laine
Le plus vigoureux buveur d'eau.

Pour le retour de tes semelles
Sur les trottoirs de ton quartier,
Dois : la chèvre dont les mamelles
Allaiteraient le monde entier ;

Pour ta clef tournant dans ta porte
Dois, avec les champs reverdis,
Tout agneau que la brebis porte,
Sans compter ceux du paradis.

Constatez mon exactitude,
Voyez si j'ai fait quelque erreur,
Quand on n'a guère d'habitude,
On ne compte pas sans terreur.

Hélas ! oui, sans terreur, madame,
Car je n'ai ni bœufs, ni moutons,
De veaux que les vœux de mon âme,
Et ceux-là, nous les omettons.

Penserez-vous que je lésine,
Si je reste, j'en suis penaud,
Le maquereau de Valentine...
Quelle Valentine ?... Renault.

Quoi ! je serais de la famille !
Bon ! me voilà joli garçon !
Ça ne vient pas à ta cheville...
Et c'est un bien petit poisson.

Que ce maquereau qu'on te donne...
Mieux vaudrait... un coq sur l'ergot...
Tiens, mettons Dauphin, ma Mignonne,
C'est la même chose en argot.

Entre Montmartre et Montparnasse,
L'enfant de la place Maubert,
Pour ces beaux messieurs de la Nasse
Dit : Dos, on Dos fin, ou Dos vert.

Dauphin, c'est ainsi que l'on nomme
Le fils d'un roi... D'ailleurs, je sais
Assez distinguer un nom d'homme
Du nom d'un port... en bon français.

Pourtant... Dauphin ne sonne guère,
Maquereau, lui, qu'il sonne bien !
Il vous a comme un air de guerre,
Et fait-on la guerre avec rien ?

Il sonne bien, tu le confesses,
(Tant pis si vous vous étonnez)
Comme une claque sur vos fesses,
De la main de qui ? devinez.

De ton mari ?... Vous êtes fille.
De ton amant ? de ton amant !
Ah ! Vous êtes bien trop gentille
Pour chérir ce nom alarmant.

De ton homme ? Il n'est pas si bête.
Devinez, voyons, devinez...
Eh !... de la main de ton poète
Plus légère... qu'un pied de nez !

Oui, ça ne fait bondir personne ;
Dauphin, c'est mou, c'est ennuyeux,
Tandis que : Maquereau ! ça sonne !
Décidément, ça sonne mieux !

By  Diane di Prima*


Extract the juice which is itself a Light.


Pulp,   manna,   gentle

                    Theriasin, ergot

like mold on flame, these red leaves

bursting

                    from mesquite by the side

of dry creekbed.         Extract



the tar, the sticky

substance

                    heart

                                of things

(each plant a star,        extract



the juice of stars

                                by circular stillation

smear

            the inner man w/the coction

till he burn

            like worms of light in quicksilver

not the false

            puffballs of marshfire,      extract



the heart of the empty heart

                     it is full

of the star soul that paces fierce

in the deeps of earth

                       the Red Man,

                                                 healer

in furs

            who carries a club

who carries

             the pale homunculus

in his belly.

                         For you are angel, you call

the soul from plants



                      or pearls of ambergris

out of the grudging sea.

                       Extract arcanum.  Separate

true Archeus from the false

                       the bitter

is not less potent—nor does clarity

bespeak truth.



                        Out of the heart of the ineffable

draw the black flecks of matter

                               & from these

the cold, blue fire.

                               Dry water.   Immerse

yourself

              though it be but a drop.

                                                           This Iliaster

flowers like the wind.

               Out of the ash, the Eidolon of the world



Crystalline.

                  Perfect.

Model cutout of a still photograph
***** with pointed *******
Attacking at my ***** hairs
like ergot on rye
almost robotic
her stare descending
  
As the sun from the horizon beams
brightness upon the displayed man-
nequin and I grow from manikin to
MAMMOTH
  
We've kissed before, with her soft velvet
body hair playing my brain like a
Kennebuc County bluegrass musician picks at his banjo
Caressing me.  Attacking me.  Devouring me.
Devoiding me of anyone else
  
The galaxy moves constant.  Mankind
can not slow it down.  There's a
crash-course in friendship.  The
Least important word is "I".  The
most important word is "we".  Yes.
I remain.  Nailed

God's children
Suffering death
Little they knew
Would be their last breath
For the insane theater
They entered
And with electric poison
They bantered
With wine of ergot, they embraced their modern eclectic change
With little knowledge, of their fatal range

OPB1/ 99237 / KURT /B1099 / TRET / GLENN /0842
ALAS / 443599/ COHEED / FTRTRAVEL / NORED /
666 / LINER / OCEAN / 2117 /6209/ TWELVE /SPLIT
FORSCOM / COMMANDER / 765 / ERGOT /2112 /
BIPn / RADAR / COLT / 999 /ERLANGER / FOXTROT
PETTICOAT / 4444423y-simpson / indicator-green / opal
INFUSIAM / TWILIGHT /OCEAN /B-trellie / AMALGAM-
alpha 235-kwqr / RED -copy zulu-999876-whiskey / OMEGA
/ CENTAURI-f-zone-d- corr. -fp-NOVA / HEMIS / 0008 /
retaw / p- positive-angle-21345 l-tin-333 / NOVA-5-i-8-o/
HOTEL / ZULU / EAGLE / 2119-j-TRIT--pers. 31 ALPHA
RUBY/ OSWEILER / GRINNELL / CLARION -29-yj-4589 /
OMNI-235 / OCEAN /P-38-t-card -ING -MOYTRON-US/
000000000000002222227777722222227676727111191000ray
oooo56oooo50­3467453898-abstract-34-level-omaha --6247
283492angle-8--76765555657-oriole-cas...ghtyu-GURU / BLUE
SUNSET / arc-21234563777878-0000099990000000000000tbf
ARC--PFINT--quad-6-s­q. 34536378222208-bgtybgtybgtyoscar---

I want to talk to you, now
that the sadness is thickening
in the air, now
that I begin to flee the night

Sombre rue settles, ergot
of rye: i feel a blackened wheat,
I feel contorted,
and worn, crumpled, contaminated
crude

now, I am past again, i am
faint, fossil, begone from the city
I roll in little tremors
through sandpaper streets
a

franctic brushwork of the winds
I am canvas, paint, the face I hate
a feeble cry
of the stray cats in crooks
you

you make me so, so thin
I buzz a wasp in my sleep, i begin
to hate the sleep
I dont... I dont want to sleep
I want to disappear tonight
I want to talk to you

Une de plus que les muses ;
Elles sont dix. On croirait,
Quand leurs jeunes voix confuses
Bruissent dans la forêt,

Entendre, sous les caresses
Des grands vieux chênes boudeurs,
Un brouhaha de déesses
Passant dans les profondeurs.

Elles sont dix châtelaines
De tout le pays voisin.
La ruche vers leurs haleines
Envoie en chantant l'essaim.

Elles sont dix belles folles,
Démons dont je suis cagot ;
Obtenant des auréoles
Et méritant le *****.

Que de coeurs cela dérobe,
Même à nous autres manants !
Chacune étale à sa robe
Quatre volants frissonnants,

Et court par les bois, sylphide
Toute parée, en dépit
De la griffe qui, perfide,
Dans les ronces se tapit.

Oh ! ces anges de la terre !
Pensifs, nous les décoiffons ;
Nous adorons le mystère
De la robe aux plis profonds.

Jadis Vénus sur la grève
N'avait pas l'attrait taquin
Du jupon qui se soulève
Pour montrer le brodequin.

Les antiques Arthémises
Avaient des fronts élégants,
Mais n'étaient pas si bien mises
Et ne portaient point de gants.

La gaze ressemble au rêve ;
Le satin, au pli glacé,
Brille, et sa toilette achève
Ce que l'oeil a commencé.

La marquise en sa calèche
Plaît, même au butor narquois ;
Car la grâce est une flèche
Dont la mode est le carquois.

L'homme, sot par étiquette,
Se tient droit sur son ergot ;
Mais Dieu créa la coquette
Dès qu'il eut fait le nigaud.

Oh ! toutes ces jeunes femmes,
Ces yeux où flambe midi,
Ces fleurs, ces chiffons, ces âmes,
Quelle forêt de Bondy !

Non, rien ne nous dévalise
Comme un minois habillé,
Et comme une Cydalise
Où Chapron a travaillé !

Les jupes sont meurtrières.
La femme est un canevas
Que, dans l'ombre, aux couturières
Proposent les Jéhovahs.

Cette aiguille qui l'arrange
D'une certaine façon
Lui donne la force étrange
D'un rayon dans un frisson.

Un ruban est une embûche,
Une guimpe est un péril ;
Et, dans l'Éden, où trébuche
La nature à son avril,

Satan - que le diable enlève ! -
N'eût pas risqué son pied-bot
Si Dieu sur les cheveux d'Ève
Eût mis un chapeau d'Herbaut.

Toutes les dix, sous les voûtes,
Des grands arbres, vont chantant ;
On est amoureux de toutes ;
On est farouche et content.

On les compare, on hésite
Entre ces robes qui font
La lueur d'une visite
Arrivant du ciel profond.

Oh ! pour plaire à cette moire,
À ce gros de Tours flambé,
On se rêve plein de gloire,
On voudrait être un abbé.

On sort du hallier champêtre,
La tête basse, à pas lents,
Le coeur pris, dans ce bois traître,
Par les quarante volants.

What ergot prophecies existed in the past
of the coming of dead black suns and starless nights?
Some love affair with tragedy, ten millennia long,
that resulted in us all writing
"kindness and love and rest and holidays" in red ink.
I am tired of saving grains of rice for the world to come,
but the bandages my grandmothers wore around their arms
keep me from putting the *** on to boil.
I have dreams about the future, and only believe the nightmares,
And so I suppose that nothing changed after all.

(katabasis)
(for rita dove)

the mare.

a red deer runs across the tv screen, bolt jutting from its neck. hornless. heavy around the middle. the weapon reminds her of other hunters. she prefers knives herself. something short handled. something that feels the bone. the mistress turns off the tv. it’s her birthday, and she’s getting ahead of herself. stealing eidos, some would say. but that’s already hers, isn't it? it was given to her- along with the fingers. the soft, curled ears.
...
it was something of an event, but she doesn’t like talking about it. and that’s how the whole world ended up believing the story her mother told. her mother, who- let’s be real- lost a few snakes in that cave. the mistress was born that night, sure, but she was also… found… by the goat… who led her to the cave… by song. and the mistress always... knew ****. she stole eidos from the beginning. a bit psychic, she guesses. a touch of the precog. so when the goat did come... she saw the body in the reeds… and she herself was found… wanting… so she was led [clopping] through the marsh. through the woods. to the mountains. to her mother.
...
the cave was dark, and it was disgusting. but- this is what will give you hands, the goat said. it was... the act. i heard you talking to the nymphs… i heard you say… you wished you had fingerprints. and, sure, this was all true. but the mare didn’t understand. the cave was dark. the woman was weeping. there was a foul scent coming from a pile of hay.
...
but then the mare saw what happened. the defiler/ father gouged a horse sized bed inside the woman/ mother. this won’t work, she told the goat, but… he was so… sure… it was done to me, mare… i was told… by a speaking head… lettings beget beginnings… if they are attractive to them. and the mare had heard of the head. she’d heard of the them. so she was convinced. it didn't take much, did it?
...
so she went to her, saying, come. let us create the effigy. and, hoof in hand, they did. they cut the hair from the mare’s neck. they tore delirious snakes from the woman’s ergot fattened crown. the bottomfeeder/ father left a few things lying around, so they used those too. but not as… organs… no, they were trophies. dolphin hand. wooden body.
...
and then the mare climbed inside her mother. at first nothing happened. the unwombed goat laughed, and the mare was afraid it wouldn’t work… but then she knew it would. the body of a horse started to take shape around her… or she became… the form of another- and when she grew eyes she could see… her old horse… was to be her brother. and he was beautiful. and yeah, she was sullen about that. the mare didn’t know she was beautiful.
...
and now she has hands, sure, but she has to wear these long gowns to cover the hooves. and when she… came-to-body… when she grew-up… she got a tutor. and she was given a box. eidos. the mistress knew all about the box. did she want it? no, but here we are. it’s her birthday. her sister is coming up for the occasion, and she will bring granate apples. pimpled, roe-like, inside-the-body-of-mother-growing-horse-like granate apples. the mistress doesn’t think her sister does this on purpose, but who cares. she doesn’t care.
...
the box is heavy on her thigh, and she turns the tv back on. animal masks/ oiled bodies/ dismembered limbs. it’s her birthday, and soon the dancing will begin. it will spread like fire through her mother’s mountainside orchard. and later- later there will be… the reenactment… the parody of a gods greed… and that which it… brought to chance… and, oh- the box is whispering. the mistress lifts it to a soft, curled ear and listens-

spurred by most recent therapy session
with Renee Cardone
whereby thematic thread
stitched how yours truly sewed
coping modus operandi,
viz avoiding emotionally volatile situations
courtesy mine trademark signature reactions
rather than be in compliance with expectations.

Said nonconformist passive rebelliousness
especially affected our eldest daughter
me and the missus begot
even when she became potential human,
which zygote quickly multiplied and divided,
and upon first blush
if blot of amalgamated undifferentiated cells
shown to botanist visible to the naked eye,
he/she would understandably, possibly,
and easily misconstrue specimen as ergot
housed whip smart Rorschach inkblot
sized being who expressed disdain NOT
be linkedin with me, her disheveled papa,
who underwent extensive cosmetic surgery
and rigorous physical training
to become taikonaut.

No rhyme nor reason why
yours truly recalled how
me very late (long deceased) mother
(earlier in her fitbit livingsocial years)
non verbally communicated disgust
(nsync with audible sigh)
quite often ultimatums
blasting fulminating nauseating
scathing well nigh
she loosed loathing against
grungy looking son (guess who)

futilely escaped wrath of Harriet Khan
clamoring upon rooftop high
offering birds eye view
out of earshot and eyesight aye
catching sunbeams while smiling wry
cowardly lion sought divine intervention
courtesy sheltering sky
acres of shingles I sprawled
these lovely bones did lie
property of garden variety generic guy.

She who helped beget and birth
sole heir inheriting gamut of behavioral quirks
linkedin with many predecessors,
who trod, slunk, roamed...
across planet Earth.

Best bet said present day scribe i.e.
poetic, nonesstablishmentarian, liberal,
jesting, humble, freelance, dilatory ******
whose hindsight evinced a student dumber
than his classmates wheedled
(as targeted scapegoat) by bullies their flummer
re: entrapped - worse louse than lice
internalized trauma left figurative tread marks
analogous to raging road runner
pressing accelerator pedal of hummer
driven by (an actual person)
one Roger Kummerer,
jogged me memory to recollect
if yours truly not mistaken
his older sibling Marsha
gave a preemie kitten to Amélie
mine eldest sister,
(whom she named Twinkles)
scores of decades in the past,
when our family lived on Lantern Lane.

Despite agonizing vicious tongue lashing
courtesy parents against their flesh and blood,
which venomous invisible whiplash
never petered out against
******* son of a gun
(even when sundry bloke
got married and gladly left home)
abusive treatment markedly
left appalling, loathing and percolating
ambivalence if though mama passed away
(these last eighteen plus years) wrung
cash crop of poetic endeavors,
albeit resultant lackluster
literary crafted aspirations
many describing marginal existence.

Memory of mom overshadowed
by similar facsimile thereof
think shrieking banshee,
an indelible psychological imprimatur,
I strive to acknowledge
emotional reverberations to date
(June eighth, 2022).

My trademark wordsmith fashioned communiqué
impossible mission to shake off bittersweet feelings
toward once (former)
Arthur Murray dance instructor,
which fancy footwork synchronized with favorite
debonair handsome young fella (papa)
both flirts buoyant with elan and energy
only thru death will angst become free
interestingly enough hands will clap with glee,
cuz versatile wordsmith he
meaning this logophile will cease knee
dulling anonymous readers now me (Phil)
Anders heads off into the virtual blue beyond.

Across the realm of gray matter
slowly percolating within tissue
composed of neuronal, glial
and endothelial cells, and although
there must be biological rules
that determine the numbers
of cells of each subtype
and the volumes (or masses)
occupied by them,
little is known about such rules,
if they indeed exist

nevertheless, ah haint goot
no trade secret, boot verily
attest adventitious, bounteous, and
capacious divine intervention
(analogous to invisible
Charge of the Light Brigade)
timely saving amazing grace
engorges, engirdles, and engenders mine
body, mind and spirit,
which psychic triage
accruing, germinating,

and manifesting coming
forth, and appearing
at the most opportune
pluperfect tinder kindling
jawboning indeed, and
instagramming optimal instant –
sparing irreparable cerebral damage,
yet inflicting temporary
temporal lobe trauma
not surprising giving
brain big bang, sans

tickly totally tubular raise
zing trumpeting – analogous
to Portuguese man-of-war
sea render tyranny
(Sic semper tyrannis)
over fifty plus shades sways
undulating cerebral cortex
doth lightly secretly
with naturally secreted
unguent liberal mindedly braise,
which explanation might meet

with skepticism, but crazy as such
"FAKE" holy transcendent
heavenly extra corporeal
modus operandi may seem,
an inexplicable force
powerfully Herculean sensation
grips me noggin leavening
mental scratch pad in a daze
of blinding poetic inspiration doth    
like quaffing goblet
of gin n tonic faze

this phenomena plays
a particularly puzzling role
on account difficult to phrase
in light of my being an atheist,
which non deistic, theistic,
nor Vedic precept stays
metaphorically locked, linkedin, and
leveraged in place,
despite non religious confession
augmentation, attribution,
and association showers inspiration,

where eyes fixedly glaze
as literary creativity attaining
high psychological grades
dramatically engages fantastically
with cosmic force appearing
as nebulous haze
seems antithetical to premise
couched, fixated, and interleaved
anchor rightly, viz
secular humanism inlays
votary visa versa entrees

shutterfly, snapchat twitter
comport comfortably situated
in  the catbird seat
as upon royal chaise
lounge steeped within
monastic hermetically ascetic ways
akin to daffodils got to puff the
magic dragon GoDaddy seed achieve
visibly absent pride and
prejudice where aggrieve
ving unseen, as careening

human bits believe
where forebears of Adam, and
the ants sandy dunes cleave
species pollination, yet devoid of
neither sense nor
sensibility that deceive
themselves philanthropic buttressed
by religious ethos, dogmas
credo, et cetera since Eve
to and fro, hither and yon
across the globe heave

infusing self importance
viz zit heady species
**** sapiens sans belief bold
lee granting superiority
to hundreds of generations
lapsed goo gilled descendants
of contemporary Primates cold,
and calculating dictatorial demagogues
(no matter dishabille disheveled) doled
out self importance
gussied up as kingpins,

whose braggadocio extolled
blood lust, depravity and egregious
on flip side of Manichaeism origami fold
touting faux grandeur measly
humans inherent self supremacy,
which mettle valuably wrought
more precious than gold
whereby might versus right
fostered iron gripped hold
trumping supreme cosmic
deity (if such exists,

per those, who ascribe existence
to divine creator),
where mankind didst
get special mold
where fictitious codified battlements
evinced luminary salient traits
if millennial forbears hypothetically polled
vis a vis virtue vindicates
vice viz lyrical tomes
such legendary mythological narratives as:
Aeneid, Don Juan,

Paradise Lost, The Divine Comedy,
Mahabharata, Beowulf,
Metamorphoses, The Odyssey,
Epic of Gilgamesh,
and The Iliad
displayed thunderous outrages
rectified violently rocked and rolled
where assignment throughout galaxy -
studded with malevolent
mailer daemons all told
informed terrestrial behavior,

decrees and formalities amidst wold
wide webbed skein tenuous
as gossamer wings
shutterfly at the speed of sound
albeit ergot size
solemn spores bumping,
commingling and jostling beings
whose demotic, erratic,
and frenetic vernacular
bumped uglies against
sacred talismanic wild things

while secular notions cursed
as intractably intolerable swings
per paradigms that disallowed rubric,
where autocratic stings
lashed out at pagan rites, which
when viewed from
surface where Earthlings
dwelt appeared as unpredictable
skittering dots with nary flings
perceived, but simply

near microscopic simians
crowning themselves as Kings
of Leon admonishing those
madding crowd source rings
of bright waters -
offering entertainment
to the invisible forces
within galactic realm
as mere antics of goslings.

pewter
clouds roll like the dark boiling
milk of
dead goddess *******//:
shimmering like
minnows.
like    Minoa .

across  the simmer-*** sky
tipping its lid
    to the
celestial
kitchen ;
stove-top, no longer watched.


as
the pulsing ergot castle looms
atop
its cliff face perch [it slumbers]

.to the captive dreamers
within its own
rotting
gate,

it
  stands
guard

against the blackened sea

     b e l o w .


AndSo

Courtesy narcissistic trumpeting
fungi moldering democratic underpinnings
donning spore ergot
lump n prowl lot terror re: hot,
hence yours truly compelled to jot
reasonable rhyme analogously describing
how land of the free home
of the brave strangled
courtesy Gordian knot
tying even Steven score
with diabolical phenomena
characterizing Salem's Lot.

The tattered glory of America,
now heats up to fahrenheit 451 degrees
analogous to kindling tinder
once again with agitation poised
to strike on brink
arty choked Jerusalem
legislation incites humiliation,
which goads desecration
fête accompli *****
in armor of Democratic

rubric, constituting capitalistic
ethic, generic iconoclastic,
and jingoistic logic,
nor budging an inch when man
dating trans sect
shoe ell masses swallow his drink
what huff huck –
this belligerent, dominant and
fervent hellraiser doth bungle in the jungle
decreeing tacit Marshall law

fast as twittering shutterfly eyewink
as his cosmic crotch grab doth
put Venus under his sway
with his Mercury re: hill temperament
pitches orbit of planet Earth
tubby comb out of balance
infected by hiz anti Jew pit
er damnations, excoriations, fulminations
huzzah sing how **** derriere
didst Saturn simultaneously

crushing crucible as an Uranus
indiscriminately plopping
approximately two hundred
and fifty pounds off flesh
doubling down humming
his favorite Neptune,
dost affect Pluto hoc crass sea
repeating self coined motto
I yam almighty, therefore no fink
simply commandeering reins of control,

a one man military intelligence groupthink
hut triad and true dyed in the wool
rip pugged ant guise zing rogue
rejoicing tuff fool, governing and hoodwink
king die hard fans of dictatorial,
linkedin and monarchist ink
cube bus thriving
wielding indomitable aggression
practiced in the Art of the Deal
Surviving at the Top,

The Art of the Comeback,
and The America We Deserve
incorporating an unanticipated jink
iron fist rule reigning down vis a vis
pro pens heave lee and prop hen city
flashing hiz seal of approval,
which scribbled signature
doth not smooth survey monkey
serve hazmat puzzling kink
boot his frenzy to bulldoze

catastrophic, formulaic, and illogic
spells these fruitful plain
in short *******rendered barren
United States of America
land of milk and honey
twill become wasteland
hell in a hand basket
with nary trace of able link
kin, the sixteenth president,
(whose rugged pioneering frontier existence)

found him steady and strong,
plus soft hearted as pelt o’ mink
the epitome if  elected forty seventh
commander in mischief
a twenty first century Drake
yule ha – albeit tink
con **** – barely describes
this oafish piranha making waves,
(whereby Hurricane Katrina
seems like child’s play),

where even a toddler,
could out rule,
out smart, and out think
maniac pampered
by donned patriarch Fred,
who fawned, doted
and bow wowed
over polarized magnate trick son,
whose rapacious,
reprehensible and riling actions

generated when United States
First Lady Melania Trump
wear a $39 jacket emblazoned with
"I really don't care, do you?"
during a trip to a migrant
child detention centre
published June 21st, 2018
didst give (in my humble opinion),
an affirmative clear cut, eye raising wink
to exploitation and fraternization
with kneading greed,

which four years of horror and terror
wrought chaos in the white house,

When congressman and senators forewent
all manner of civility, fidelity and integrity wii
hull ding broadswords, derringers
and firearms as all hell broke loose as testimony
to dire prognostication foretold
more than saber rattling and Gatling guns que
kind from lambastes, fisticuffs
and brickbats ratcheted
up as agents provocateurs nee
said obedience to semper fidelis

credo, coda and **** knee
stance when dire straits called for restraint
against excess versus raising cane old hickory
i.e. Andrew Jackson latched onto
when opposing with energy
plus verve espoused by fellow delegates,
and his hologram ghost ******
from battle scars outside and/or inside
the halls of government where blows bashed
dovetailed elected legislators to officiate

as angry birds viz brouhaha clashed
Federalist against their nemesis
of twenty first century
during the term of Donald Trump,
who throve on cutthroat frenzied
internecine lawlessness dashed
to and fro, hither and yon
any hopelessness for
civilians to escape bloodshed
spilled from without

vaunted halls of justice,
the approach of doomsday
writ large as anarchy and mayhem flashed
with uproarious coup d’etat,
when Democrats outliers gnashed
teeth, and nonestablishmentarian outlaws
pistol whipped and hashed
tagged traitors who roared America
went bankrupt at sold
at fire sale price slashed

when Donald Trump ran country
into the ground evidenced
by Molotov Cocktails residue
in concert with the sulfuric odor
of hand grenades trashed
like some sorority or fraternity house
left the sanctified righteous West Wing
with powder puffs canisters
of pepper spray, whereby
most docile, humble,

and liberal took page
from playbook of Pandora,
and landed an aimless swing
at root cause of melee
by hurling objet d’art
at pompous trump ping
septuagenarian, whose platoons of goons
rent asunder peoples against their king,
the donnybrook heathen, whose remarks
against libertarian rubric

made America great
wantonly soup peer egg go whist tickly
reviving prejudices declared dead
from yesteryear and his attempt to bring
back the glory days, when WhistleBlowers
getting water boarded and aching
deigning to implement dictatorship
virulent strain Jane's Addiction
of the Proletariat as capital idée fix
weaving together, the salient strengths

viz founding fathers credo gave licks
to King George, and now in an ironic
twist and shout of fate through eclectic mix
basket of deplorables further shamed
by being routed by New York Knicks
sewed jaws, heads of state, and dignitaries
with limping bodies spent like derricks
oil used up and no place to go except
to keep Alice in Chains and
Alice Cooper Company with toys in the attics.

Meanwhile the complex edifice
housing innocent Little Red Riding hood
standing in for realm of Pilgrim's Progress
witnessed statuesque Lady Liberty
firmly grappling torch of freedom,
when sequel to forty fifth commander in chief
whereby talking head strongly prophecy
how he blatantly snatches emblematic symbol,  
and essential fabric and rubric
stitched together over the course

since Declaration of Independence
arrogated courtesy founding
fathers and mothers, (albeit unsung)
huge bear paws figuratively swiping
sacred inviolable enshrined covenants
stripping away said constitutional perquisites
establishing totalitarian hegemony
casting dark shadows
along the edge of night,
wherein outer limits of the twilight zone
harken stranger than fiction dystopian wasteland.

Welcome back DONALD TRUMP –
holding hostage goose
that laid the golden egg.

Axe the old don
a trump peter n piper
of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
with the ha airbrushed pompous ****
so the kiss my a** in Macy's window
paraded jackal hound doth run
after public outcry yelps
for his hide and proletarian discord won!

No matter Donald Duck Trump
i$ - a pompous ***
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination
with Kristallnacht broken glass
inciting banal deathly
hallowed expletives toward lass
seen – especially as viewed
on archives from Fox Television
then news anchor woman Megyn Kelly
bracing herself against ogre personality
to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults
from incriminating verbal pass  
so…NO VOTE from me
from such a snooty, petty, haughty
arrogant simian with sass!

I van nah try to describe
while sitting on me ****
how he oh bomb in lee rages
with gnashing teeth while back a slump
blasting democratic nomination as a sham –
from special interest bro and sis turn pump
he, the epitome
of crass bloviation, a malignant lump,
whose rants sans
presidential outcome a sham bull

with his millions beds this,
that and another woman to ******* jump
disseminating gene pool –
birthing more quackers
and additionally doth ****
the mass media as some foolhardy charade
and caricature of a frazzled grump
this arboreal clothed ape
erecting taj mahal ******* symbols
where players dump

and gamble away hard earn cash
for his hello kitty,
as if that cachet to grind and bump
lambasting with maniacal leering pout
while hair *** red bulls
atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed
heady measly shaped muppet
diseased cranial hologram
of a cretaceous,
facetious and insidious measly mump.