Demand the climate obeys orders.
seek vengeance on the scientists if it declines.
turn over the redwoods to the firing squad
     for taking a stand.
shake a fist at the sky till it blushes.
request the clams to clam up till you're done talking.
hide the fish in the sea
     because everyone needs one.

Expect the mule to make up its mind.
tempt the desert with some water.
torture the water with some desert.
attack the salt flats for being too dry.
file a complaint against the rattlesnakes
     for causing such a ruckus.
question the cactus till they give up their values.

Force the leaves to show their true colors.
slaughter the weeds 'cause they don't belong here.
silence the wind till it agrees to stop singing.
moon the moon for serving moonshine.
sentence squirrels to a life without acorns.
terrorize the trees to do your ***** work.

Infringe on the kumquat's rights.
bury the berries, uproot the roots,
     ravage the cabbage, spoil the soil.
arrange the oranges to reflect the sun.
lecture the watermelons on how
     you scalped more natives than anyone.
declare war on the avocados to prove your point.

Nag the children to bear the weight on their shoulders.
rifle through the planets to find what you want.
crack open a book and read a poem
     that defines this all as the

End.

"Kick a kumquat in the belly.
Tell a wee rose that she's smelly,
and ye dinnae like burds lit at'.  
Cook a cucumber in *****,
cook a cucumber in *****,
cook a cucumber in *****. "

" Excuse me, pal.. Urr you awright?"

A kickboxing kingpin, splitting skulls
Boom! There it goes, your mind explodes
Grab a Kleenex as you head out the door.
Kibitz with the cool cats 'bout kibbles 'n bits
And smooth jazz. Bright like a kumquat,  
You don't know squat; Knowledge is a knocker
Busting through doors with manners improper.
Cackle with the cattle as they pass over the mantle,  
A klutz in the gravel, but the lil' rascal can leave you frazzled  
And clinging to the scaffolds with masterful power.
Check the cadastral, he owns God's throne and then some;
Kicking kitschy angels out the nest 'fore they grow their halos.
Shot Happy to killjoy, bound his body to a killick
and the water smacked
Now he's swimming with the goldfish and they smile back.

-SLuR

(the smoker you are,
the drinker you get -
never vouchsafed by this
ill eagle non substance
nor amber liquids
of the dogs imbiber).

as a mathematical abbot
weeding thru bathroom rag
i.e. regular toilet tissue paper
prior to completing important
private business matter

on the sacred porcelain chamber ***
more revered than the king’s throne
molded from a gold ingot
which the heady Mary Jane
made more than hit token appearance
and quaffing
inxs of one hundred proof shot,

Nonetheless, boy gnome hatter
her inebriated state,
she still looked smoke kin hot
asking if I wanna marry
her attired in drag
at a joint where ****

banged on by the hands
of a phenomenal drummer
taut as a hemp knot
with music in his blood
while blowing fractal rings –
holy marcal scott

the immediate utterance
and rather creative bon mot
found me stock still
like stone wall Jackson,
who unfortunately got shot

unwittingly by his own
(confederate troops),
whose demise an awful blot
per the southern cause
during the civil war

and if anachronism
to receive medicinal aide
available instead
of primitive treatment he got

as well as other wounded soldiers
of misfortune on the battlefield
whose faith the any almighty
power could do little to save their lot,

yet availing my imagination
to twist time like that mobius strip
mortally wounded Rebels
and Yankees free from
facing death on a cot

might be successful hemp
entrepreneurs cultivating a little spot
of land hemp would outstrip
cotton as king as export to trot
back to lady gaga who

scorches throats yet delivers bagged
illicit goodies with bo diddly squat
narcotic as sweet
as savory kumquat
palliative that hits the spot.

Melbourne to London
Taking the flight again
For singing and songs
And to see where life takes me


The first time I did this flight
Would have been when I was a child
My twin sisters still babies
My parents setting up our lives in Australia
Finding work as nurses

I remember the simple housing
Playing army figurines with my mother on the old carpet
And the Golden retriever who jumped the fence and played with dad



Melbourne to London
Taking the flight again
For singing and songs
And to see where life takes me



School and growing up was hard
There was always a bit of turmoil and fighting in the house
Dad got me a bass
Chris got me a guitar
I sang because I needed it

I never finished university
I wanted to play in bands

I met people who were my friends
But there were some jealousies
I kept on in a rage
Pride and self respect wouldn't come till later in life



Melbourne to London
Taking the flight again
For singing and songs
And to see where life takes me



Where I grew up is beautiful
The surrounding bush
The way my mum keeps the garden
Full of flowers, kumquat and apple trees
It's a paradise I don't want to leave
I don't want her to leave

My sisters are young beautiful mother's now
The cutest kids with a head start in life
I'm largely silent around them
My guitar stays in it's case
I still need to find my place
I still want to surprise everyone as Uncle James



Wide expanses, yellow fields in the sun
Across the ocean
Time differences
To smaller plots of land
And the spill of industry
I've come here to make the puzzle of my life fit together
With a belief I've always had in myself
That only used to be an idea

So all I ask, would be
inviting, offering, and ushering me to
top secret cygnet committee
to give this average sized
chapped sticky man
spinning the david bowie playlist
as a somber dee jay
an eel lick trick kool aid battery acid test
dancing in the street
even if that requires me to get undressed
dancing with the big boys

my helping hands of average size
worthy to sink initial
public offering funds
and don me with bullet proof vest
building a soulful bond –
glue tin free - day in day out
tis the emotional state
of ma deux grown darling daughters
choosing to take flight
leaving this dada glum many days
assigned chauffeur de jure father

where cradle of democracy
i.e. phila., penna skyline due west
opposing to dwell in the city,
I am just dead against it
does pursue assigned tasks with aplomb
twittering, springing
and googling hypnotically
like a dead man walking
appealing banana rhea public like zest.

Yours truly loner moxie he got
who enjoys tasty kumquat
teasing as fragrant decadent debaser
who (years ago) experienced
social anxiety with abdominal knot
barking, dancing, and foaming
at the mouth diamond dogs
twiddle ling green thumbs

oof a harris tweed
interesting when deep sleep
stirs question did you ever have a dream
butta, non raincoat wearing scott
drying out the muddy
and watery ***** song
lives in or on xyz lane
allowing avid bowie fanatics

to do anything you say
where construction
shoddy as dung key kong
stepping gingerly
around the pile of dodo
whereby foundation starting to rot
positioning myself just so,
that ye don’t bring me down
I turnip ma head of lettuce n eyed

rotten green tomatoes
while yam able to trot
don’t let me down & down
now this cracked egg noggin
thoroughly mixed up
warning ye against the temptation,
to jump into a chocolate vat
hence don’t look down
in mind and even out loud,
ja utter more'n !@#$ what!

Postscript: how didst aye fair
keeping thine bow tied
heart in suspense asking - don’t sit down
asia faux pas king lear
hoping for his divine arrival
with movie time drive in saturday
whom might live far or near
breathing sigh of relief
at appreciable distance
‘tween dum dum boys

even though seasoned heartland I see
tackling threading n camel
thru needle than writing
bajillion line poem
evinces davy jones locker
sealed with a prayer
honoring the solemn funeral
whereat everyone says hi
doth exist whether heterosexual
or supremely "queer"

everything’s all right
such immense gulf
entombs plenty of fish
flailing with death
as all dog bombs the moon
and carcasses of those in rear
envying that titanic ghost
of david bowie to fall in love with me
guard, yukon beak comb
good friends n share

until time lapse on terrestrial sphere
finds metamorphosize unbeknownst
to bobbing buoys
and gabbling gulls tear
ring thru the vast tarn shroud
amidst wreckage where
manifest destiny
swallows up the man who fell to earth
amidst tha sea of humanity
tulle thee last civilization year
will forever disappear.

this psalm burr endeavor from:
modest nonpareil wordsmith

a fish or a
kumquat. I am sick
of picking out cars, bridges
motorcycles and

buses. I won’t discuss
this. I am a woman trying to
share her passion. And I’ll post
it like a sticky note on

everything. When has art gone
out of fashion? I create something
new every day, through my words
and videos, through my paint

and the way I pose. And I’m
sick of waiting in a twilight-zone
swirl, checking off boxes
and being asked if I’m a girl!