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1969 Hartford art school is magnet for exceedingly intelligent over-sensitive under-achievers alluring freaks congenital creeps and anyone who cannot cut it in straight world it is about loners dreamers stoners clowns cliques of posers competing to dress draw act most outrageous weird wonderful classrooms clash in diversity of needs some students get it right off while others require so much individual attention one girl constantly raises her hand calls for everything to be repeated explained creativity is treated as trouble and compliance to instruction rewarded most of faculty are of opinion kids are not capable of making original artwork teachers discourage students from dream of becoming well-known until they are older more experienced only practiced skilled artists are competent to create ‘real art’ defined by how much struggle or multiple meanings weave through the work Odysseus wants to make magic boxes without knowing or being informed of Joseph Cornell one teacher tells him you think you’re going to invent some new color the world has never seen? you’re just some rowdy brat from the midwest with a lot of crazy ideas and no evidence of authenticity another teacher warns you’re nothing more than a bricoleur! Odysseus questions what’s a bricoleur teacher informs a rogue handyman who haphazardly constructs from whatever is immediately available Odysseus questions what’s wrong with that? teacher answers it’s low-class folk junk  possessing no real intellectual value independently he reads Marshall McLuhan’s “The Medium Is The Message” and “The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci” he memorizes introductory remark of Leonardo’s “i must do like one who comes last to the fair and can find no other way of providing for himself than by taking all the things already seen by others and not taken by reason of their lesser value” Odysseus dreams of becoming accomplished important artist like Robert Rauschenberg Jasper Johns Andy Warhol he dreams of being in eye of hurricane New York art scene he works for university newspaper and is nicknamed crashkiss the newspaper editor is leader in student movement and folk singer who croons “45 caliber man, you’re so much more than our 22, but there’s so many more of us than you” Odysseus grows mustache wears flower printed pants vintage 1940’s leather jacket g.i. surplus clothes he makes many friends his gift for hooking up with girls is uncanny he is long haired drug-crazed hippie enjoying popularity previously unknown to him rock bands play at art openings everyone flirts dances gets ****** lots of activism on campus New York Times dubs university of Hartford “Berkeley of the east coast” holding up ******* in peace sign is subversive in 1969 symbol of rebellion youth solidarity gesture against war hawks rednecks corporate America acknowledgment of potential beyond materialistic self-righteous values of status quo sign of what could be in universe filled with incredible possibilities he moves in with  painting student one year advanced named Todd Whitman Todd has curly blond hair sturdy build wire rimmed glasses impish smile gemini superb draftsman amazing artist Todd emulates Francisco de Goya and Albrecht Durer Todd’s talent overshadows Odysseus’s Todd’s dad is accomplished professor at distinguished college in Massachusetts to celebrate Odysseus’s arrival Todd cooks all day preparing spaghetti dinner when Odysseus arrives home tripping on acid without appetite Todd is disappointed Odysseus runs down to corner store buys large bottle of wine returns to house Todd is eating spaghetti alone they get drunk together then pierce each other’s ears with needles ice wine cork pierced ears are outlaw style of bad *** bikers like Hell’s Angels Todd says you are a real original Odys and funny too Odysseus asks funny, how? Todd answers you are one crazy ******* drop acid whenever you want smoke **** then go to class this is fun tonight Odys getting drunk and piercing our ears Odysseus says yup i’m having a good time too Todd and Odysseus become best friends Odysseus turns Todd on to Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar” and “Ariel” then they both read Ted Hughes “Crow” illustrated with Leonard Baskin prints Todd turns Odysseus on to German Expressionist painting art movement of garish colors emotionally violent imagery from 1905-1925 later infuriating Third ***** who deemed the work “degenerate” Odysseus dives into works of Max Beckmann Otto Dix Conrad Felixmulller Barthel Gilles George Grosz Erich Heckel Ernst Ludwig Kirchner Felix Nussbaum Karl *******Rottluff Carl Hofer August Macke Max Peckstein Elfriede Lohse-Wachtler Egon Shiele list goes on in 1969 most parents don’t have money to buy their children cars most kids living off campus either ride bikes or hitchhike to school then back home on weekends often without a penny in their pockets Odysseus and Todd randomly select a highway and hitch rides to Putney Vermont Brattleboro Boston Cape Cod New York City or D.C. in search of adventure there is always trouble to be found curious girls to assist in Georgetown Odysseus sleeps with skinny girl with webbed toes who believes he is Jesus he tries to dissuade her but she is convinced

Toby Mantis is visiting New York City artist at Hartford art school he looks like huskier handsomer version of Ringo Starr and women dig him he builds stretchers and stretches canvases for Warhol lives in huge loft in Soho on Broadway and Bleeker invites Odysseus to come down on weekends hang out Toby takes him to Max’s Kansas City Warhol’s Electric Circus they wander all night into morning there are printing companies longshoremen gays in Chelsea Italians in West Village hippies playing guitars protesting the war in Washington Square all kinds of hollering crazies passing out fliers pins in Union Square Toby is hard drinker Odysseus has trouble keeping up  he pukes his guts out number of times Odysseus is *** head not drinker he explores 42nd Street stumbles across strange exotic place named Peep Show World upstairs is large with many **** cubicles creepy dudes hanging around downstairs is astonishing there are many clusters of booths with live **** girls inside girls shout out hey boys come on now pick me come on boys there are hundreds of girls from all over the world in every conceivable size shape race he enters dark stall  puts fifty cents in coin box window screen lifts inside each cluster are 6 to 10 girls either parading or glued to a window for $1 he is allowed to caress kiss their ******* for $2 he is permitted to probe their ****** or *** for $10 girl reaches hand into darkened stall jerks him off tall slender British girl thrills him the most she says let me have another go at your dickey Odysseus spends all his money ******* 5 times departing he notices men from every walk of life passing through wall street stockbrokers executives rednecks mobsters frat boys tourists fat old bald guys smoking thick smelly cigars Toby Mantis has good-looking girlfriend named Lorraine with long brown hair Toby Lorraine and Odysseus sit around kitchen table Odysseus doodles with pencil on paper Toby spreads open Lorraine’s thighs exposing her ****** to Odysseus Lorraine blushes yet permits Toby to finger her Odysseus thinks she has the most beautiful ****** he has ever seen bulging pelvic bone brown distinctive bush symmetric lips Toby and Lorraine watch in amusement as Odysseus gazes intently Tony mischievously remarks you like looking at that ***** don’t you? Odysseus stares silently begins pencil drawing Lorraine’s ****** his eyes darting back and forth following day Lorraine seduces Odysseus while Toby is away walks out **** from shower she is few years older her body lean with high ******* she directs his hands mouth while she talks with someone on telephone it is strange yet quite exciting Odysseus is in awe of New York City every culture in the world intermingling democracy functioning in an uncontrollable managed breath millions of people in motion stories unraveling on every street 24 hour spectacle with no limits every conceivable variety of humanity ******* in same air Odysseus is bedazzled yet intimidated

Odysseus spends summer of 1970 at art colony in Cummington Massachusetts it is magical time extraordinary place many talented eccentric characters all kinds of happenings stage plays poetry readings community meals volleyball after dinner volleyball games are hilarious fun he lives alone in isolated studio amidst wild raspberries in woods shares toilet with field mouse no shower he reads Jerzy Kosinski’s “Painted Bird” then “Being There” then “Steps” attractive long haired girl named Pam visits community for weekend meets Odysseus they talk realize they were in first grade together at Harper amazing coincidence automatic ground for “we need to have *** because neither of us has seen each other since first grade” she inquires where do you sleep? Todd hitches up from Hartford to satisfy curiosity everyone sleeps around good-looking blue-eyed poet named Shannon Banks from South Boston tells Odysseus his ******* is not big enough for kind of ******* she wants but she will **** him off that’s fine with him 32 year old poet named Ellen Morrissey from Massachusetts reassures him ******* is fine Ellen is beginning to find her way out from suffocating marriage she has little daughter named Nina Ellen admires Odysseus’s free spirit sees both his possibilities and naïveté she realizes he has crippling family baggage he has no idea he is carrying thing about trauma is as it is occurring victim shrugs laughs to repel shock yet years later pain horror sink in turned-on with new ideas he returns to Hartford art school classes are fun yet confusing he strives to be best drawer most innovative competition sidetracks him Odysseus uses power drill to carve pumpkin on Halloween teachers warn him to stick to fundamentals too much creativity is suspect Todd and he are invited to holiday party Odysseus shows up with Ellen Morrissey driving in her father’s station wagon 2 exceptionally pretty girls flirt with him he is live wire they sneak upstairs he fingers both at same time while they laugh to each other one of the girls Laura invites him outside to do more he follows they walk through falling snow until they find hidden area near some trees Laura lies down lifts her skirt she spreads her legs dense ***** mound he is about to explore her there when Laura looks up sees figure with flashlight following their tracks in snow she warns it’s Bill my husband run for your life! Odysseus runs around long way back inside party grabs a beer pretending he has been there next to Ellen all night few minutes later he sees Laura and Bill return through front door Bill has dark mustache angry eyes Odysseus tells Ellen it is late maybe they should leave soon suddenly Bill walks up to him with beer in hand cracks bottle over his head glass and beer splatter Odysseus jumps up runs out to station wagon Ellen hurriedly follows snow coming down hard car is wedged among many guest vehicles he starts engine locks doors maneuvers vehicle back and forth trying to inch way out of spot Bill appears from party walks to his van disappears from out of darkness swirling snow Bill comes at them wielding large crowbar smashes car’s headlights taillights side mirrors windshield covered in broken glass Ellen ducks on floor beneath glove compartment sobs cries he’s going to **** us! we’re going to die! Odysseus steers station wagon free floors gas pedal drives on back country roads through furious snowstorm in dark of night no lights Odysseus contorts crouches forward in order to see through hole in shattered windshield Ellen sees headlights behind them coming up fast it is Bill in van Bill banging their bumper follows them all the way back to Hartford to Odysseus’s place they run inside call police Bill sits parked van outside across street as police arrive half hour later Bill pulls away next day Odysseus and Ellen drive to Boston to explain to Ellen’s dad what has happened to his station wagon Odysseus stays with Ellen in Brookline for several nights another holiday party she wants to take him along to meet her friends her social circles are older he thinks to challenge their values be outrageous paints face Ellen is horrified cries you can’t possibly do this to me these are my close friends what will they think? he defiantly answers my face is a mask who cares what i look like? man woman creature what does it matter? if your friends really want to know me they’ll need to look beyond the make-up tonight i am your sluttish girlfriend! sometimes Odysseus can be a thoughtless fool

Laura Rousseau Shane files for divorce from Bill she is exceptionally lovely models at art school she is of French descent her figure possessing exotic traits she stands like ballerina with thick pointed ******* copious ***** hair Odysseus is infatuated she frequently dances pursues him Laura says i had the opportunity to meet Bob Dylan once amazed Odysseus questions what did you do? she replies what could i possibly have in common with Bob Dylan? Laura teases Odysseus about being a preppy then lustfully gropes him grabs holds his ***** they devote many hours to ****** intimacy during ******* she routinely reaches her hand from under her buns grasps his testicles squeezing as he pumps he likes that Laura is quite eccentric fetishes over Odysseus she even thrills to pick zits on his back he is not sure if it is truly a desire of hers proof of earthiness or simply expression of mothering Laura has two daughters by Bill Odysseus is in over his head Laura tells Odysseus myth of Medea smitten with love for Jason Jason needs Medea’s help to find Golden Fleece Medea agrees with promise of marriage murders her brother arranges ****** of king who has deprived Jason his inheritance couple is forced into exile Medea bears Jason 2 sons then Jason falls in love with King Creon’s daughter deserts Medea is furious she makes shawl for King Creon’s daughter to wear at her wedding to Jason  shawl turns to flames killing bride Medea murders her own sons by Jason Odysseus goes along with story for a while but Laura wants husband Odysseus is merely scruffy boy with roving eyes Laura becomes galled by Odysseus leaves him for one of his roommates whom she marries then several years later divorces there is scene when Laura tells Odysseus she is dropping him for his roommate he is standing in living room of her house space is painted deep renaissance burgundy there are framed photographs on walls in one photo he is hugging Laura and her daughters under big oak tree in room Laura’s friend Bettina other girl he fingered first night he met Laura at party is watching with arms crossed he drops to floor curls body sobs i miss you so much Laura turns to Bettina remarks look at him men are such big babies he’s pitiful Bettina nods

following summer he works installing displays at G. Fox Department Store besides one woman gay men staff display department for as long as he can remember homosexuals have always been attracted to him this misconception is probably how he got job his tenor voice suggesting not entirely mature man instead more like tentative young boy this ambiguous manifestation sometimes also evidences gestures thoroughly misleading after sidestepping several ****** advances one of his co-workers bewilderingly remarks you really are straight manager staff are fussy chirpy catty group consequently certain he is not gay they discriminate against him stick him with break down clean up slop jobs at outdoor weekend rock concert in Constitution Plaza he meets 2 younger blond girls who consent to go back to his place mess around both girls are quite dazzling yet one is somewhat physically undeveloped they undress and model for Odysseus radio plays Roberta Flack’s “Killing Me Softly With His Song” both girls move to rhythm sing along he thinks to orchestrate direct decides instead to let them lead lies on bed while curvaceous girl rides his ******* slender girl sits on his face they switch all 3 alternate giggle laughter each girl reaches ****** on his stiffness later both assist with hands mouths his ****** is so intense it leaves him paralyzed for a moment

in fall he is cast as Claudius in production of Hamlet Odysseus rehearses diligently on nights o
Big Virge Aug 2014
(Pt. III)

After the 7/7 bombing ...
This is part of a Trilogy of poems to remind people about
where some of their, " Anti-Islam Rhetoric ", started from ....
  
Well They've Made ....            
A ... REALLY Good Start … !!!!!            
            
They've Shot A Brazilian ... ?!?            
Straight Through His Heart ... !!!            
            
Of Course Those Words ...            
Are ... NOT Quite Right … !!! ? !!!            
            
He Was SHOT FIVE TIMES ..... !!?!!            
At POINT BLANK RANGE … !!!!!            
            
They Got REAL CLOSE … !!!            
Putting Guns IN HIS FACE … !!!!!!            
            
They CLAIMED ...            
            
"He had a bomb !" …            
            
But Alas They Got It WRONG ... !?!            
            
They Made A ... " Slight Mistake " … !!!            
            
Well Apologies WON'T Mean a lot ...            
When Friends Are At ... HIS WAKE ... !!!!            
            
There Is A PROBLEM Here ... !!!            
            
They've Given The ALL CLEAR ...            
For Policemen To ... “ SHOOT TO **** ” … !?!            
            
SO Who Now Has To Fear ... !?!            
            
Is it ... " WHITES " ... ???            
            
It Would Seem ... NOT ... ?!?            
  
“It’s Muslims and the other lot !”            
            
The ... " OTHER LOT " ... !?!            
Means Those Like ME ... !!!            
            
Young Black Men On London Streets ...            
So Much For Us Being ... FREE ... ?!!!?            
            
FREEDOM NOW Is ... OBSOLETE ... !!!            
            
Those With COLOUR WILL Now See ...            
Much MORE of Those ... " NICE POLICE " ... !!!!!            
            
Those Who Work For These MP's ...            
Who Claim To REGRET Such TRAGEDIES ...            
            
But STILL WON’T CHANGE Their Policies ... ?!!!?              
            
This Is Now A HORRID Time ... !!!            
Cos' Words Like These ...            
May Be ... DEFINED ... ???            
As ….. ” INCITEMENT ” …..            
  
When It's Just Rhyme ...            
            
This It Seems ...            
Is Their Design ...            
            
Pay CLOSE ATTENTION …            
To The ... Following Lines ... !!!            
  
“We wil imprison, or, deport !            
anyone attacking, the values of The West !"            
            
That's ... " Lord FALCONER "...            
Our Lord Chancellor …            
            
He'll Bring DISTRESS … !!!            
To Me I Guess .... ?            
            
For Things I Say ...            
AGAINST THE WEST … !!!            
            
Like ...  
  
Freedom of Speech ...  
Will Soon Be .... " DEAD " .....            
            
Now I DON'T Own ...            
A ... Bullet-Proof Vest ... !!!            
            
But Who Needs One ... ?            
When They're Aiming At HEADS ... !?!            
            
Instead of ... ARMS ...            
Or BETTER STILL ... " Legs " ... !!!            
            
These People Are ...            
Humanity's DREGS … !!!!!            
            
Their TERROR LAWS ...            
Are Like FISH NETS  .… !?!            
With ..... NO FISH ..… !!!!?!!!!            
            
But ….. ” HUMAN DEAD ” ….. !!!            
            
What They Say ...            
Makes Me UPSET … !!!            
            
Muslim THIS … !!!            
And Muslim THAT … !!!            
            
I’m NO MUSLIM ... !!!            
That's A FACT ... !!!            
            
Of Course It's WRONG ... !!!            
To ... " SUICIDE BOMB " .... !!!            
            
But ... " TWO WRONGS " ...            
DON'T Make Things Right ... !!!            
            
We're In DARK TIMES …            
WITHOUT ... Much Light … !!!            
When ALL WE DO Is Incite Fights ... ?!?            
            
Just Because of ... " STEREOTYPES ” … !?!            
            
This Is Why Innocents Will Die ... !!!            
Tears Will Flow While Many CRY … !!!            
            
Tears of SADNESS From This MADNESS ... !!!            
            
MADNESS On ...            
Your TV Screens ...            
            
MADNESS On ...            
Our City Streets ...            
            
Madness That ...            
Will Slowly ... " Creep " ...            
            
YES …..            
Close To YOU ... !!!            
            
And Close To Me ... !!!!            
            
DON'T DISMISS ...            
Cos' You've Been ... " Missed " ...            
            
At ANY TIME You Could Get HIT … !!!!            
            
By A Policeman ...            
Who Holds A GUN ... !!!            
  
And Has The ... " OK " ...            
To ... Make You RUN ... !!!!!            
            
Just Like REDNECKS ...            
Run From ..... “ SUN ” ….. !!!!!            
            
Or ... I Do From ...            
            
..... ” RACISM ” ..... !!!!!!            
            
That's Something .....            
I’ve Always SHUNNED … !!!!!            
            
Because I Like ...            
This Word HUMAN ... !!!!!            
            
If You Shoot Me With A Gun ...            
When I Bleed It's BLOOD That Runs ... !!!            
            
KILLING Is NO SOLUTION … !!!!!!            
            
They've Just KILLED Somebody's SON ... !!!!!            
            
That's What Comes From ...  
Using .... GUNS .... !!!!!            
            
NEEDLESS DEATHS …          
Rise Like The Sun ...            
While Peace Now Sinks ...            
Into ... " OCEANS " ... !!!            
            
This AIN'T Making Life Much Fun ... !!!            
            
Actually I'm Getting VEX ... !!!            
Cos' I’m Thinking ...            
            
Maaaaannnnnnnnnnn ……..            
            
... " WHO’S NEXT ?!? " ...
People, as much as it seems,
disconnected from, the 7/7 attacks.
One should recognise,
  
The ****** of Jean Charles De Menezes ...
  
Yeah ... Remember Him !!!
  
R.I.P.
  
It's CLEAR.
  
whether you believe, 7/7 was a Muslim,
Islamist attack, or not ?
  
What  has transpired since,
has shown that Terrorist actions,
are not something that, Muslims
have total ownership of ...............
  
Hate, leads to terror, and
******, is an act of ... TERRORISM.
Brad Lambert Oct 2013
(I)

Whose coat is this? Sure as hell isn't my coat. I ain't got no coat with this parka ****, it's *******. I ain't no furry flamin' ******. I ain't no ****** chochy Molly-May-Ze-**** chokin' down chickens and nasalin' a'sniffin' snortin' nasty-*** choch; that ain't me. That ain't me. Look at this coat– I'm like an Eskimo *****. I'm like a butch-**** bull-**** crotch-lappin' a'swimmin' laps in that guy's swimmin' pool. Who's that guy? Who owns that guy? 'Ey, anyone here the owner of this guy– guy ain't got no owner? Whose coat is this? It's nice, real nice. Bet she said, "Does it come from France? Where do I buy one?" I want to buy one, I think I need to buy **** more. I sure as hell need to buy one of these. "And I need one these too and one of them too and I need a petticoat and a tipper-tapper and a whimpratic garfielder and one of them new bartlemores, I need more of them bartlemores. I need more, more, more, more, more, more..." That ain't enough. ****'s from France. ****'s from Paris, that's romantic. You think I'm romantic? I eat hearts for dinner, I chew down nails like nuts for my midnight snack. I smoke cigarettes and spit on concrete slabs, you think that's ****? I'll show you ****. I'll show you Paris, New York City, Rome, romance you in Rome. I'll get real ******' Roman. I'll take you to the desert and make love to you. That's how a free man does a woman, and I'm a real free man. Who's ownin' this guy? It ain't you, it ain't me. I don't own you, you don't own me. I'm a free man:

I said,
"Fire and wood, fire and wood, fire and wood. It is late, it is late, it is far, far too late."

I set
fire to wood, fire to wood; feel that fire fired fresh from that firewood.

I dug the pit,
he gathered the wood,
she started the fire.

She really does make that fire start.

O' how she makes that fire burn,
O' how the wood's wrapped in white hots,
O' how they smoke their smokestacked pipes,
O' tobacco teeming teenagers, tormented by and through youth,
O' adolescence, trending topics, and forget-me-not flowers,
O' old age, Floridan coffins, and coughing  cancers,
O' writers in the mountains writing to be,
O' painters and **** bodies in studies by the sea,
O' thinkers in their mindset, mindsetting the table for dinner,
O' tables set to bursting,
O' wallets so thick,
O' community,
O' society, our social games,
O' hope,
O' peace,
O' that I may be at peace,
O' that I may be content and pray only for peace,
O' how about them true believers,
O' how about that love at first sight,
O' sandstone. My sandstone. That guy sittin' on sandstone.

That's my guy. That's my guy. I own this ****.

Is a man breathing on a mirror the sum of his breaths?
Breaths foggin' a'mistin' my view,
my view of a body and that face,
you're a body.
You're a workin' day's bell,
you're my chill in an Icelandic draft,
you're my spare in a Middle Eastern draft,
you're my pawn in chest-to-chest chess.

You've got this. You've got this. You own this ****.

And it is ****, too. I'd be set, real ******' set, with someone like you. I'll make you a woman, check this parka ****. Coat's mine. I'm a classy igloo runner, runnin' a'ragin' a'czebelskiin' meriteratin', I'll be reiteratin' your points. Check the time, it's late! It's late! ***** was in the grassy knoll turnin' trap tunes on her turntable. Would you listen to that? She sounds late to me, does she sound late to you? I like the music; I like the music. What happened to Woodstock? Where's my watergate, Nixon? Where's my generation, Ginsberg? Where's the meaning? This music's too loud! We're so profound! O' profundity!

Tell me something I didn't know, I'm craving' the new.
Give me the new while I spit on the old,
while I spit on this fine art finely art'd by and for fine artists–
******' fine artists. ******* fine artists.

(You can realize radical-realist realism but you can't be real with me?)

O' fine art!
What fine art!
Which fine artists are dead?



(II)

Looks like they're dead.

Looks like them ******* choked out all them ghettos, choked out all them rednecks, chokin' a'stranglin' by-God-oh-God straddlin' the breeders. I sure did like them babes– babes with their laughin' a'lackin' o' cynicism. They don't know the word "****."

I sure am forgetful–
I forgot that smoke doesn't dissipate,
I forgot how to smell autumn leaves,
I forgot to check the heart against the fingertips,
I forgot why my fingertips went numb,
I forgot to cue in the meaning when the sentence was complete,
I forget to complete my sentences,
I forget who you were wanting when you said, "I want you."

I got as much depth as an in-depth discussion, high hats and electropercussion have got me going. I'm goin' downtown, uptown bourgeois tricked me out, johns and yellow Hummers laid me down and cussed me out. That's not a discussion. That's not my scent scenting my towel, this breath reeks of wintry air– my fingertips went numb.

"I want you."

"Oh would you look at that moon?
Take a look at that moon.
Look at that moon with the ******' mountains.
I love that moon.
That's my moon."

I love darin' a'dusty dareelin' derailin' your dreams, whose dreams are these? They ain't my dreams– ain't no dream derailin' a'nileerad radiatiatin' some hint of joy or Jamison Scotch Liqueur. Drink that ****. That's my ****, I own that ****.
I'm sittin' on this stoop like I own this ****, like this **** owns me; I owed me. I don't own me, you owe me:

Pay up man, feet off the stoop.
Pay up man, be real with me.
Pay up man, you ever thought of a man as a man?
Pay up man, give it in.
Pay up man, give in.
Pay up man, I need you to do me a solid. Do me solid from crown-to-toe, we're toe-to-toe let's do-si-do bro-to-** I'm ready go, **, jo, ko, lo, get low… Now I'm ramblin'. You say, "Ramble in to the stoop and tell me a story."

What's a stoop– who's a stoop? That **** ain't stoop– you ain't stoop. You're stupid. You're a joke, check out the joke. Hey ladies, you seen this joke– joke ain't been seen by them ladies? I'm a joke. We ain't laughin' with you, they're laughin' at you.

O' hilarity!
Such hilarity!
What hilarious histories have passed?



(III)*

"I said I loved him once. I only loved him once."
(
And how long once has been...)

I sure did like them hand-holdins,
them star-gazin' moments,
them moon phasin' nighttime nuances,
them fingertip feelin' a'findin',
them sessions o'meshin' limber legs unto steadfast *****,
heads cocked like guns toward the sky,
beyond the horizon
but well
below the belt.

Them star-gazing moments seeing stars seemin' small, I love how they gleam- gleamin' a'glarin' comparin' shine to shine, shimmerin' a glimmer shone stumblin' her way home from the bar. She's drunk. She's brilliant, brilliance of whit and wantin' a'wanderlustin' gypsy nomads- that ***** gyp'd me, no mad man would take a cerebral slam to the face lest them moving pictures are involved. Read a ******' book, it'll last longer. Kiss me on the collar bones, clavicles shone shining with slick saliva pining for my affections. You're clammerin' to feel me, clammin' up (Just feel me.) I want to run my hands through long hair and peg the nausea nervosa to the wall. The writing's on the wall:

The sun bent over so the moon could rise, chanting,
"Goodbye and good riddance,
I never wanted to shine down
on them seas o' tranquilities anyhow."*

O' what a day. What a day.

And the wind ruffles leaves and it ruffles feathers on birds eating worms in brown soil.

What a day. What a day.

And the men under the bridge gather in traitorous conversation of governments overthrown and border dissolution and poetry with meters bent out of tune.

What a day. What a day.

And the billboards are dry for all the consumers to consume, use, and review.

What a day. What a day.

And hearts break messiest when you're not looking.

What a day. What a day.

And the ego and the id and the redwood trees are talking. They're sitting **** in the marshes, bathing in the bogwater while fondling foreign fine wines and whisperin' a'veerin' conversations towards topics kept well out of hand, out of the game, nontobe racin' in races, rampant radical racists betting bets on bent, bald Bolshevik racists wagging Marxist manifestos in the bourgeois' faces, yes. Make it be. Nontobe sanity as the captain creases his pleats, pleasin' her creases and the dewdrops of sweat trailing down the small of her back– down the ridge of her spine forming solitary springs of saline saltwater in the small of her back. Aye-aye, guy's pleasin' a'makin' choices a'steerin'– government's a'veerin' a hard left into the ice.

'Berg! 'Berg!
Danger in the icy 'berg!
None too soon a 'berg!
Bound to bump a 'berg!
O' inevitably unnerving 'berg!
Authoritative 'berg!
Totalitarian 'berg!
Surveillance of *** and the sexes 'berg!
O' fatalist fetishist 'berg!
Benevolent big brother 'berg!
Homosocial socialization 'berg!
Romanticized Roman 'berg!
O' virginal mother 'berg!
City on a hill on a 'berg!
Subtly socialist 'berg!
Nongovernmental 'berg!
O' illustrious libertine 'berg!
Freedom of the people 'berg!
Water privatization 'berg!
Alcohol idolization 'berg!
O' corrupt and courageous 'berg!
Church and a stately 'berg!
Pray to your ceiling fan 'berg!
Biblically borne 'berg!
O' godly and gorgeous 'berg!
Ferocious freedom fighters launching lackluster demonstrations far too post-demonstration feeling liberty and love, la vie en rouge, revolving revolutionist ranting on revolution tangible as
an ice cold 'berg.

'Berg! 'Berg!
O' the 'berg, the ****** iceberg–
You'll be the death of me.
ConnectHook Sep 2017
White folks: pack your bags and go.
Our nut-brown world is quite offended.
Make your shame-faced exit NOW,
And leave your mansions unattended.
Wait—before you pass the doors,
It's time to settle ethnic scores.

No more ragtime Minstrel Show.
Our Moorish Science took it down.
Black lives matter. White, less so—
Now move your pale face out of town . . .
But first, shell out for racial shame
Caucasian losers of the game.

Cultural pride is ours alone:
Kings and Egyptian queens we were.
The glories of our race, well-known
Bedazzle in a darkened blur
(Clear to Africa's descendants—
Puzzling to you white dependents).

Blackness lent your world its light,
Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers.
Scandinavia grew bright
Under our beneficent powers.
Negroes gave your blondes their beauty;
Helped those Norsemen shake their *****.

The Seven Wonders of the world:
We built them all. No vain conjecture
Dims our banner, black, unfurled,
Above eternal architecture.
Arts and knowledge gained from us
Are what we threaten to discuss.

We invented math and science
Which you robbed from Timbuktu.
Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance
Caused Old Europe to renew.
All our treasure that you plundered
Testifies: your days are numbered.

Classics of our Greeks you stole:
Philosophy was never yours.
Shame upon your racist soul;
For Bach and Mozart both were Moors.
Misappropriated treasures
call for ruthless hard-line measures.

Latino fate falls next—but, where ?
Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ?
Orientals everywhere:
Choose your side and join the fight.
Blackness rising! Late the hour;
Heed your call to fight the power.

Crackers need to check your race—
Stop rooting for that ****** clown.
Rednecks all up in our face;
Racist throwbacks got us down.
But as your statues bite the dust
Your light goes dark (you know it must).

So move on out, oppressor, thief.
Long have you held our nation back.
In some white galaxy seek relief—
But here the light itself is black.
Stars are racist. So is the sun.
Now let God's great black will be done.
Truth is stranger than:
http://tinyurl.com/yc9va3pl

Candace Owens understands .
It was strange almost as strange as Thanksgiving with Justin Bieber  at his grandmother's house.
Yes I'm sure that wasn't the only thing getting stuffed that year.
Who doesn't enjoy being serenaded by their grandson as he's naked with his pick in one hand and
his **** in the other as he stands **** ball naked in the kitchen.

Thanks Canada your like a ***** girlfriend who instead of giving a great ******* gave us ******  What do I expect from a country that also gave us maple syrup and call me maybe.
I know we just met and this sounds crazy but your countries music ***** so never call us okay.

I was alone in the Pub as  usual hell what do you expect from a site that has a showcase yet has no more groups from which half of the showcases are named after .
Yeah the owner has that true modern day logic like having a music channel that only shows
reality show ****** and knocked up ******* who complain about paying the bills yet are employed by the network yeah common sense it really is lost on stupid people.

I was having like half of a case when a hamster who shall remain unnamed due to she would
harm me if I spoke the name of which is not to be spoken of walked through the door.
Gonz set me up with a cold one  I really need it.
Really hamster I never pegged you as a necrophilia kind of gal but to each his own
good thing I got the paper let me just check the obituaries and make some calls
You want something fresh off the highway or you more into cold cuts?

I know I'm going to hell but honestly did you expect good taste  in reading this **** ?
Are you ******* nuts?
The agitated little hamster asked as she looked at me with anger and possible **** in her eye's.
Look I can always hope good thing I forgot my whistle.

Just give me a cold beer you pervert and that joke was tasteless really have you no respect for anything?
I looked at the hamster after handing her the beer and thought deeply and hard pulling my mental hair at the same time even though I don't have any don't ask.
Duh hamster!
It's my job  to make tasteless jokes and be a pervert what you think the time clock on the walls for?
Um employees ?
Well yeah it used to be until they whole health care **** I swear I give my workers one meal a week and provide a perfectly good basement for them now I got to give them health care duh
if I paid my bills what would I drink with ?

My customer who remains anonymous to  protect the safety of my *****.
Looked at me in disgust uh oh looks like I might be getting a spanking as well.
You really keep those poor people locked in the basement ?
Duh person I cant say your name there not real people there here illegally.
How can you say that I should call the cops on you .

The hamster was turning red and from the threat of calling in the fuzz I knew she must be
serious yet still I knew deep down she was just playing hard to get with her threats and restraining orders but enough with the foreplay hamsters.

Look I really don't see what the big deal is ?
You have people trapped in your basement like some dirt bag smuggler.
Now you hold on a minute hamster how dare you insult me I said in my grown up voice
I know I can act like a grown up shocking isn't it?

I was about to tell this hamster just what I really thought of people who take advantage of people
who just want a better life and exploit others and really preach some of that moral **** that sounds real good yet isn't what I think cause I'm truly a ruthless *******.

When I stopped and saw the clock oh **** hold that thought I almost forgot to feed the basement people.
I reached under the bar and grabbed four cartons of cigarettes and a case of wine.

What in the hell you only give those poor people ***** and cigarettes ?
Well  duh there French what else would they want?  
Just then a voice came up from the dungeon I mean basement of the pub gonzo more wine
you American swine I hate you yet still I applaud your efforts in destroying that vile
man child Selena Gomez  .

Ahh you got love the French sure that strange little man may stay drunk on a girl drink and smoke like a chimney but even he hates **** pop music as much as me.

My one and only reader slash customer slash person I enjoy annoying sat in shock.
You are so ****** up .
I looked as I took my seat behind the bar that no longer exists because some people
who shouldn't be allowed out of there cage run the site into the like button ground.

Yes hamster I'm a little ruff around the edges but when you get to know me.
You realize behind all the insults and perverted bad humor .
I'm well I'm far worse than you could ever imagine.

We sat there swapping stories the drinks flowed the French man in the basement yelled
something in that strange language  he spoke once I couldn't understand cause I
don't speak German.

It was a  true night to remember except for the part I forgot duh!
It was growing closer and closer to closing time I mixed us both a good strong drink
yet with a soft side and heart of gold like a awesome ****** or that man ****** Kim Kardashian .

Well I guess better head out Gonz.
Aren't you feeling like your going to pass out .
Um no why ?

****** its really getting bad when you cant trust a good street dealer to quality
roofies  .
The hamster was headed out the door but before she left she turned and said.
Oh yeah and you might need to grab a pillow.

And then everything went black but not like in the NBA .
No indeed I was out like Charlie sheen after a really good coke binge when he used to be cool.

I awoke upon the floor alone cold and hurting in a area far more strange than fifty one
****** man whya alien would travel across the galaxy only to corn hole rednecks and poetic madmen is beyond me but enough about what some owners of websites do in there off time.

Upon the bar sat the only cure for my troubles a double shot of good blended whiskey.
Next to it a note on a bar napkin .

Dear Gonz  next time remember to remember which drink you spiked you ******* .

I had to laugh and sit really funny the seat was a bit uncomfortable get your heads out of the gutter
children your almost as bad as me.

Until next time kids remember .
Good humor bad humor  its just ******* a joke to begin with so lighten the **** up.

Cheers and stay crazy.
When it comes to humor always be ruthless .
And remember if it offends nobody forced you to read it to begin with.
Drinks on me cheers.
There's strange noises round these parts
Tales of zombies too
Haunted cabins, ghostly sights
All sorts of witches brew

We all laugh when we hear stories
Stories that we know aren't true
There's a drink that folks all know
And it ain't called witches brew

There ain't no redneck zombies
That I guarantee
To make a redneck zombie
you need the recipe
A shot or two of good old jack
and a shot of grandpa's lightning
that's a redneck zombie son
Drink two and it gets frightening

moving lights out in the wood
strange visions on the beach
swamp gas, that's what I would say
redneck zombies....that's a reach

tourist folk see things a plenty
they believe all of our tales
like the one about that boy Ahab
going chasing that white whale

There ain't no redneck zombies
That I guarantee
To make a redneck zombie
you need the recipe
A shot or two of good old jack
and a shot of grandpa's lightning
that's a redneck zombie son
Drink two and it gets frightening


if there was such a thing as zombies
wandering round out here
i'd figure it was just my kin folk
after a case or two of beer

zombies like to eat folks brains
and tear them all apart
now to a redneck, that there's work
and rednecks aren't that smart

There ain't no redneck zombies
That I guarantee
To make a redneck zombie
you need the recipe
A shot or two of good old jack
and a shot of grandpa's lightning
that's a redneck zombie son
Drink two and it gets frightening
A large red elephant jumped on the trampoline.

Somewhere in the distance a blue eyed babe cried.

Rednecks clad in Paul Bunyan shirts inhaled the fumes of their barbecues.

Moving gracefully, a trapeze dancer tip-toed across the river.

My wife slumbered on our couch,

And wind blew a kite out of my hands.

                                                

I fed a goat nectar from my hands.

A crowd encircled the trampoline.

My family purchased a new couch,

And later that day we helplessly cried.

Our wailing could not be heard across the river,

Where rednecks continued to inhale the fumes of their barbecues.



Neighbors massed to celebrate barbecues.

I looked down at my blood stained hands,

Then joined the beautiful trapeze dancer across the river.

My red elephant broke the trampoline

And we were surrounded by infinite crying.

Nobody sat on the new couch.



Many problems arrived with the new couch;

There weren’t any more barbecues,

And my teeth crunched on granola as we cried.

Silky fabric embraced my hands.

Ingrid, my wife, dies on the trampoline.

She was buried across the river.



Some guy drank all the water from the river,

And started living on our couch.

Who would have thought I met lily on the trampoline,

And who would have thought I took up barbecues.

Now I felt warmth on the back of my hand

And I no longer cried.



Only the winter wind cried,

Howling over Ingrid’s grave across the river.

I slapped an elephant carcass with my hand,

Proceeding to cook it with salt and pepper on the couch.

I bored my wife with barbecues

So she went to jump on they trampoline.



Lily died on the trampoline; I always cried.

No longer did I host barbecues, the wind continued to howl across the river.

I gutted the couch, and killed myself with the back of my hand.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2013
Dazed, infusions of hate,
Swineherd is dirtiest of pigs,
******* Limbaugh rush.
The first inductees were named I sat there half hung over and a stiff drink in the wait to  kick the party off once again.
The names were called and they were the people who actually started this site not just came long afterwards to pick the bones clean of a already dead animal that ones for you like button zombies.

They were all there Bathsheba ,Richard Shepard although his where is Waldo new persona had not allowed him to be seen yet again.
Chris Smith they were all announced minus one name that shown through the dark like a true beacon  of total debauchery  the man the myth the walking train wreck yours truly Gonzo.

After the announcement everyone made sure to give the lucky panel a good dose of the clap once I'm sure wasn't the first time some of are panel had encountered that.

What?,They are all excellent writers and deserve the applause get your mind out of the gutter you loveable pervez  you.

I knew there must have been some mistake so I approached the strange little **** who runs the show here to ask had my name been forgotten by mistake.

Hey there person I cant say your name or you will banish me to the hello closet with your co owner and life partner .
Yes Gonzo can I help you ?
The dark lord himself said in his usual why wont this ******* die and leave me alone little naughty  voice of his.

You mean in a ****** sense ****** ?
Adolf looked at me in his usal look of is this ******* insane or just ******* with me sense .

Look you misspelling ****** what the hell do you want?
For ****** and **** to become legal and Justin Biebers  head on a silver platter .

That is in such bad taste.
Yeah I replied I know maybe just the ****** thing cause that man **** is terrible have you ever seen deliverance?
Made me want to never go camping again I mean honestly why couldn't it have Mark Walberg being rode like a piggy mmm twisted .

Gonzo what the hell is wrong with you !?
Honestly Adolf to much to explain in this write I believe it all started when my mother sold me for crack yeah she only got like four rocks duh I'm at least worth ten what a ***** love ya mom.  

I swear you drunken perverted halfwit if you don't just get to the point I'm going to shoot you myself you insane ******* .

I was shocked by these words never had anyone said such nice things about me with there outside voice once was strange being we were inside at the holiday Inn convention center deep in the mental wasteland called Ohio .
Yeah I know why Ohio?
Well cause Hello has no money that's why we beg more than those cheap hookers at PBS.

But enough with the foreplay children.

Adolf I will for once in my semi sober existence speak clearly .
Why the **** am I not a part of the ******* hall of fame being I was here from day ******* one before half the people who think there hot **** ever ******* were you ******* cyber ****!

Was that clear enough ?

I must have hit a chord for the mighty cyber warlord shot me a look of pure rage that made me wish I had brought my trusty **** whistle.
Sure   I know that no one will respond I just like blowing it the whistle that is cause Gonzo don't swing that way yeah sure there was that one summer in college and I know  what your thinking.

Gonzo went to college?
What it could happen hell were did you think I got my black belt in drinking?

Look you demented ****** you may have had a audience of perverts and teenage girls and demented old ladies who raise coyotes for there ******* job fooled into liking your work but I will never ever ever Put you into the Hello Hall Of Fame ever ever he continued on for awhile beating his little fist on the podium he was such a loveable little **** kind of a mix of Elton John and Martha Stewart.

So maybe next year ?
No ******* .
So what your saying is maybe after I'm dead and the world has gone into a state of thank the ******* Lord we don't have to read this long winded ******* work anymore  then maybe?

Don't you understand the word no?
Well being I hear it all the time from my teenage wife you think I would but hey I've learned like after some very manly crying and begging like a dog eventually  she caves  in or if I pay her like her other clients  .

I'm kidding I'm a writer I have no money.

It was clear this egg wasn't going to crack or go sunny side up for me now maybe get a little scrambled in-between as you sit there reading wondering what the **** is wrong with this guy writing this story on a poetry website.

It's cause I'm black isn't it Adolf ?
Do you own a mirror Gonzo?
Duh what do you think a snort my lines off of ******* besides  my heart is more black than that of any twisted freak ego maniac who enjoys a good drink and some even better hookers .

Look Gonzo I'm tired and I got to get out of here cause if we don't clear out we have to pay a late fee besides there's a star track convention waiting and you know how those nerds get when they when you put off them meeting there messiah William Shattner .

True those strange little hamsters were worse than rednecks at a monster truck show with no beer in sight.

I had to for once admit defeat Adolf held the keys and much like a hot ******* chick The Hello Hall Of Fame wasn't in my cards .
Yeah rules and stupid laws can be such a **** block.

I was broken so I did what any grown man in the same situation would do went to the bar and pouted in a corner and flipped all my old friends off then realized that the bar was filled with a bunch of Sci Fi nerds who kept wondering who the **** is that weird dude crying in his beer flipping everyone off.

And after one to many insults the nerds decided to go all Chuck Norris on my *** I'm kidding they threatened to call there parents and have them give me a good scolding and being it was the first time Mom and Dad  got them out of the basement this year I knew there would be hell to pay.

I looked deep into my darkened soul and had to think fast .
So I did what any good con man and half *** writer would do.
Told them I was Gene Roddenberry's son and signed autographs and took there free drinks and had a good ***** with a green chick .

And who said I didn't believe in happy endings .
Live long and stay crazy hamsters .

Gonzo
And upon reading this you may wonder hey is there a Hello Hall Of Fame?

Really do you need a answer.
Newsflash neither is Santa Claus , The Easter Bunny, Or Katy  Perry's ***'s .
Luis Mdáhuar Aug 2014
Ruddy's was the place to be on Wednesday nights, cheap drinks, free hotdogs and the graceful presence of Times Square hookers late at night, what a wonderful scene, marines hookers and the best jazz juke box inn manhattan, rowdy and something almost always happened, better than life. I was a young man in a strange country, had my fists tested in FLA and Brooklyn for stupid prejudices on my behalf and others, words hurt only those who do not know their meaning and root. There was a black man sitting next to me, quiet and still, a true barfly, he turned and said;
- you are not from round here-
-  no - I said -I am from Mexico -
- you don't look Mexican, but let's go with it, I don't look African American either-
- r you from the south?-
-Georgia, as they call it -
-well, I've worked in FLA and met some rednecks, Cubans, blacks, but almost no Chinese-
-you mean yellow-
-or *******-
- or ****, you know men, I prefer racism down south, over there the distinction is cut loose clear, we don't like each other, but here, men I tell you, you wannanother beer?-
-sure men-
-Girls just wanna ******* cause I'm black, you know, to be cool and ****-
-yeah, Jewish girls wanna **** white Gentiles, different reasons same goal-
-I hear you, here it's all about being fashionable, but deep in the pit it's all fake as a 10 dollar coin-
  We kept at it until Beth started a fight with another ******, they were calling each other **** I've never heard.
Insults can bring people together like butter and rye, you just have to know.. Modern morals are all about selling and obeying.
Do people ever truly lose there mind or were they always ******* bat **** to begin with?
I believe half this earth is run by insane people most of which have way to much power and far to little sense .

The ******* radio is a great example ever listen modern music ?
You know that **** that doesn't require any talent to preform just a record player and some half wit to rap along with so you can have a remix yes country music is vile enough let alone throw in a nerd that would **** if he got his thirty thousand dollar sneakers ***** once are made in some sweatshop for ten cents a pop yeah how ******* fashionable .

And remember when you had to play a ******* instrument to have a record out?
Yeah I'm so old fashioned I mean sure kids wear all the  shirts to half the bands I grew up with and have no ******* clue who the bands are but yes the world is stupid and you wonder why I drink.

Just like people who believe the world really gives a **** there having a bad day # who gives a **** Twitter is for stupid ***** and celebrities who have as  much depth as a public toilet but are far less clean.

People always read me and believe I am this nice easy going goofy drunken ******* who only lives to make them laugh and talk about ******* well who doesn't like ******* there awesome.

Hey Gonz do you like kids ?
No I don't !
Why ?
Cause they always annoy the **** out of me when I'm trying to sleep off a good ****** in the park really whatever happened to letting the TV raise them hey I look at me I didn't turn out so.
Umm well okay so I'm a little ****** up .

Hey do you ever get tired of being funny or find it hard to come up with new things to pick on?
Well just watch the evening news for a second and head down to the local bar or that gate of hell Wal-Mart and look at all those ******'s who believe they have to buy **** just cause its on sale yeah sure why not buy two hundred rolls of toilet paper  cause you never know when the world may end and the zombie apocalypse will begin .

Newsflash when the world does cease to exist you probably will to and when your starving to death or being burned alive I really doubt that wiping your *** is going to be your top priority .

And we already live amongst zombies   there called yuppies and those I phone twitter loving instagram ******* are ******* everywhere and driving while doing all this **** so pick your head up and watch out!!!

I recently was on a little road trip and while in Evansville Indiana as me and my head cheerleader were riding around the city late at night we were ran into by a young and brainless little **** who admitted she was texting and driving and as I sat there waiting for officer fat **** to arrive to give this cyber **** a ticket .

Yes Indiana it's slogan should be hey are you ******* lost?
Yeah I know I'm a real people person .

Anyways as I sat there viewing what looked like babe Ruth in a bullet proof vest hand out a ticket as he sweat out gravy I had to question with  fifty lares of flesh for padding was there really a need for the vest?

They say when you go insane it's hard to truly rejoin society .
But honestly after looking at half the strung out loony toon's that are considered normal why the **** would you ever care to be part of there brain dead **** storm ?

And since when did the news care what was popular on ******* You tube?

Todays top stories the worlds on the verge of self destruction, A man kidnapped a child ***** her for several years has five kids with her but later on that right now let's check out this cute cat video.
yes the worlds obsessed with ***** .
And you thought it was just me.

And why do teachers now all **** there students and where were these horney ******* when I was going to school.
Yeah having to settle for a ******* from the janitor just wasn't the same.
Although he did have a fantastic grip I'm kidding.

And why  do people even own TV's duh cause books are to much like work but hey remember to buy mine cause it has  plenty of pictures  yeah what isn't poetic about ****?

Yes I can imagine what the great writers from the past would think of the new bestsellers.

Who doesn't like books about gay *** wizards and **** vampires that glimmer in the light yeah I didn't read it duh I saw the movie *******
yeah you may laugh but whatever got my sixteen year old girlfriend in the mood was alright by me I'm  kidding again she was twenty one at the time least that's what her fake Id said.

Yeah least I'm not as bad as Micheal Jackson  cause I'm actually alive that is duh.
Yeah he didn't have issues he just a ******* amusement park in his back yard .
Me I'd prefer a ******* or maybe a mall yeah don't ask.

Common sense nowadays it makes people laugh and the key to humor is always truth people are all ****** up hell just look at me I'm truly insane I own my own bar I get paid to write I do stand up for free drinks but honestly would you really want me doing anything else?

Attention this is your captain speaking umm look I really  don't know how to put this but I forgot to gas up before we left so looks like were all going to die as we crash into the earth and burn to death.
Yeah my bad .

But hey I want to thank you all for flying delta and please remember the do not smoking light is on yeah sure your probably going to be busted into a million pieces but heaven forbid the ***** next to you catches a whiff of smoke before he dies.

Loosen the **** up cause your not going to live forever  .
People are so uptight afraid to say **** or disagree with each other cause we all need to think alike like a bunch of ******* lemmings.

I grew up around backwoods rednecks I lived in the city slept in the ******* street okay there's no difference in people except real ******* people aren't scared to **** others off they are who they are and if you like them great and if you don't then ******* life's to dam short to sweat the ******* and this high school mentality needs to truly get ****** the worlds messed up so embrace it .

Like me, Hate me at least you never have to guess what I really think .

Stay crazy kids cause the normal ***** of this life are usually  total closet freaks who **** hookers on the side and make bombs in grandmas kitchen .

It's a shame cause a good ****** is a terrible a terrible thing to waste.

Well hamsters until next time this has been your bartender for life with your friendly perverted public service announcement we now return you to your regular scheduled program right smack in the middle so you wont know what the **** happened cause we can nah nah.

And if I somehow offended you please fell free to write to.

Gonzo's complaint department in care  of .
105 It's called a ******* joke way .

Cheers Gonzo
On old mainstreet, sits an old café,
Where home-town-grown musicians play.
Sometimes they like to change its name,
But the clientele stay just the same.
When times are tough down in the town,
You know you can’t get the Black Dog down.

Rednecks and faux-necks and used-to-be-loggers,
Crafters and rafters, and activist bloggers,
And poets and hippies and mystics and fools,
And outcasts from the secondary schools,
And gypsies too: you’ll find them here,
Drowning in local, hand-crafted beer.

At night, locals sip organic tea,
And turn up the menagerie
Of lights and mics from another age,
Pieced together to make a stage.
And there, the guitarists waste their breath
Beating the Same. Four. Chords. To. Death.

There are some new lyrics, there and here,
But all of them memories of yester-year:
A year spent in the same **** space,
With others who’ve never left this place.
They sing of their dear loves and pasts,
And how much longer the wandering lasts.

And on they wail, and on they moan,
And twang the antique, rustic tone,
But their faces show they like it here,
This breaking haunt of yester-year,
And after the set, they carouse with cheer,
And smile contentedly to their beer.

On old mainstreet sits an old café,
Where home-town-grown musicians play.
Sometimes they like to change its name,
But the clientele stay just the same.
When times are tough down in the town,
You know you can’t get the Black Dog down.
09/12/12




Written for The Black Dog, Theatre Black Dog, and Isadora's, which are all really the same place under time's sneaky aliases.
Amanda Newby Dec 2016
Dear Self,

For you it is November 9th, 2016. Despite all odds, Donald Trump is president. Mike Pence, governor of your home state of Indiana, is his VP.

You are 17 right now. You were born into a world run by George W. Bush. You spent your whole childhood hearing your parents yelling at the tv, angry at the Texas governor in the White House.

You grew up in Obamanation. You saw months of “YES WE CAN” and “CHANGE” stickers going up, and a magnet your family still has get put onto your refrigerator. You heard your mother’s sigh of relief when Barack Obama was announced the 44th president. That was half your lifetime ago.

You spent the last year following the campaigns. You were not surprised by Hillary Clinton running again. You “felt the Bern” of the somewhat radical Independent candidate previously unknown to you, Bernie Sanders. You laughed off the wild reality tv star Donald Trump’s campaign.

Months went by. Bernie and Hillary were fighting hard leading up to the primaries. Republicans slowly started to drop out. Big names like Jeb Bush, Mike Huckabee, and Chris Christie left the race. Bernie didn’t do good enough in the primaries, which was upsetting to most of your friends, your older brother, and your mom, who all voted for him. Ted Cruz fell off, defeated, in May.

It was down to Hillary and Trump.

You followed the comments made at their rallies. On their social media. You heard a lecture about the election from Josh Gillin of Politifact at Indiana University over the summer. You won an award for an opinion piece you wrote on Trump. As the election day grew closer, you watched every presidential debate. You analyzed them in class.

Last night, you stayed up until 4 A.M. to see the results of this election. You sat through excruciatingly slow interviews, political analysis, and different predictions. You couldn’t turn away from the blue and red maps, the aggressively American backgrounds, the anxious masses.

The tired tv hosts were right, it was a nail-biter.

As Trump gave his victory speech, you wept.

You wept for the months you spent wishing this wouldn’t happen. You wept for the 1920’s suffragettes, for the descendents of MLK and Cesar Chavez, for the Orlando victims. You wept for me. The people I joined. The people who will join me.

I am dead.

You learned in your final moments that homophobes look like normal people. They are not all rednecks with beer guts wearing ten-gallon hats. They are more elusive than that. They can be dressed smart. They can have friendly voices. Familiar names and faces.

A friend of a friend of a friend of a friend killed you. Someone you live near. You might have passed them in a car. In the mall. In the school hallways. It was someone that people you knew,  knew. You probably could’ve gotten their Twitter handle if you had heard their name before.

You were killed in a city that VP Pence had once stood in.

People tried to learn about your killer. Were they someone you knew? Someone who just went crazy? Someone who couldn’t handle who you held hands with?

You were too young, the local news anchors said. Your school administration said. Your mom said.

Mike Pence didn’t say anything at all.

Your friends didn’t say much. They cried. They withdrew. They wore baggier clothes. They bought switchblades. They washed “*****” and “ladyboy” off of your tombstone. They wondered about joining you, voluntarily and not.

The school newspaper’s headline: DEAD AT 17.

No one thought it would happen to you, except you. You stayed up late at night, imagining your funeral. The first thing you did in the morning was practice for your wake. Every time you left your house, you were a dead man walking.

No one  believed this more than you did.

The news anchors said it was just one of a string of murders. People said it was an isolated incident. Your friends said it was a hate crime. Your mom said it was the worst thing that  ever  happened to her.

There was no question that you were gone, even when they found you- chest jumping. There was only one thing to wonder: who was next?

Not an if, but a when.

I hope the when is  never.

All my love- to you and everyone else,

Yourself
Bunhead17 Jan 2016
I attract artsy people! 78%
Those free spirited artists with great imaginations find you interesting. They are usually interesting themselves, so its not a bad thing, but they CAN be a bit wifty and choose odd goals. If you like life to always be a bit 'different' from the norm, but not too extreme in any one direction, these are the people for you. If you seek logical decision making skills and good money management, you may want to change something in the way you appear. Artsy people are fun for adventure and exploring, so, have fun! (smoking **** helps too)

58% You attract geeks!   (<My comment: Some are cute tbh)

54% You attract Yuppies!    (<My comment: ''Young urban professional" or "young upwardly-mobile professional.'' Not bad)

54% You attract models!   (<My comment: They're fine)

46% You attract unstable people!   (<My comment: To true. It never fails)

14% You attract rednecks!     (<My comment: I'm black! Aren't rednecks racist?)
http://www.gotoquiz.com/results/what_type_of_person_do_you_attract
Sam Knaus Aug 2016
Or: On How To Let Go

1. The first time your grandmother cries
and says you died along with your grandfather,
smile.
You never liked her much anyways,
so being dead to her- while not ideal-
isn't the worst way to go.
2. Remember that time you went shopping
for your first pair of cargo shorts
and the same grandmother was RIGHT QUICK to point out
to the cashier that you are very much a girl
all soft curves and short limbs
and regrets and quiet voices
and you gotta try not to smack her.
3. Remember when a Wal Mart worker said,
"Good morning, Sir"
and again, that same grandmother
was right quick to point out
that I was very much a lady,
that I was petite and passive
and everything she wanted me to be
4. Just... Hide it.
Because while they may say they're okay with it
you still see the sideways glances
and the glares, and the stares,
and the cries of, "How the hell do you expect to be a boy
if you're wearing that skirt!"
5. Try your best to explain it to every person
that you'll ever bring home
to meet this family.
Say... "Sometimes, I kind of feel
a little bit like a boy."
Underplay it.
Severely.
Don't tell them that some days
you wake up crying and clutching at your chest
wishing it was gone
that some days death sounds more preferable
than living in this body
Don't tell them that it's way deeper
than "sometimes" and "kind of"
that it's a constant nagging fear
6. Sit down at Christmas dinners in a dress.
Be aware that you're only making things
harder on yourself.
6. Sit down at Christmas dinners in a suit and tie.
Be aware that you're only making things
harder on yourself.
7. Their insistence that they can't even try
to call you their nephew,
or their grandson,
cause it would be too ******* them
8. My transition is too ******* them
5. I wake up some mornings
willing to do anything I can to switch bodies
with my best friend: a trans woman
who hates her body as much as I hate mine
that's something we have in common.
I'd give anything to have her body,
she'd give anything to have mine
9. Recognise that your family
isn't gonna understand.
10. Deal with it the only way you know how:
every self-destructive tendency
you've clung to all these years
quickly becoming your other best friends
6. Realise that feeling this way
is making things harder on you.
11. Realise that it's okay
to break up with your regrets
and though they'll cling to your shirt
and drop to their knees
and beg beg beg beg for you back
Do not take them back.
12. Realise that you are so much more.
That you... Are valid,
despite everyone who calls you
the name of a person
you don't even recognise anymore
realise that you are valid
despite everyone who says you're not
cause when you think you're not,
when you're pressing yourself into mattresses
and obsessively working out
and holding back tears looking at all the clothes
you wish you could look good in,
that's.... well, that's when you need it most.
0. Let go of the fact that your family
calls you the name of a person you don't recognise anymore
because one day, you're gonna show up for Christmas dinner
and they're not gonna recognise you.
And that's one of the most comforting feelings
in the world.
In the Boondocks of the Ozarks
Salty caramel smelt of August
Swathes stench of rotten trailer parks
Imprisons barren mid-west dust

Feral fevered kids a hunting
For to cool; shoot up, or drink
Arthritic railroad; tie and shunting
Ferrous old town wretched on the brink

Since the cease of mine and logging
Depletion of iron lead and zinc
Nag horse too dead for flogging
Folks futures draining down the sink

Some respite in the summer heat
RV’s; tourists and campers for trails
Like blackfly plague pick off the meat
Fly fast; escape as another harvest fails

Dark currents pepper darker mood
Intolerance grinds in the daily way
Resentment bread as only food
At someone’s door the blame shall lay

In the graveyard of the Ozarks
Rednecks dance on industry tombs
Burn brown smoke spice. Moonshine sparks
Oblivion; no life. Back to mothers' womb

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
The sultry heat of an American Mid-West summer in a dying old mining community full of drugs, devoid of hope!
David W Clare Dec 2014
(truck-drivers, bar-boozers, loser-bar yokles, blue-collar rednecks will all love this smash hit song!!!)

Rockin country genre

"Big Mouth Surgery"    
  (by david John Clare)

(rockin' country drunk hick juke-box mix)

Wow!  She sure does talk a lot... could almost cause a riot

But we don't get... just what she's trying to say

We could hear her fine before... when she used to be quiet

Guess all them new school-words get in the way

We took her to see... a gypsy-psychic-magician

But he wanted more... than we could pay

So we took her down to see... our local town physician

And here's what old doc... had to say

Boys...

"She needs Big Mouth Surgery"

Her tongue is on the blink

She just talks, sqwacks and talks some more

'Cause she don't know how to think

So please don't be stallin'

Her brain is now corrupt

Can't you see that she has fallen'

And she just can't ''shut-up!"


Big Mouth Surgery

Cause no pills seem to work

Hurry please now doctor

Before she drives us all berserk


Big Mouth Surgery

But will it work without a doubt?

Better make it a lobotomy

Before she starts to shout!


(solo)


Our reputations are expensive

While her talk is **** cheap

You just can't tell her nothin'

'Cause a secret she can't keep

No one seems to know

What the fuss is all about

We're just waitin' for her brain

To catch up with her mouth


She needs Big Mouth Surgery

Her mind is on the blink

She always talks, talks and talks all day

Why can't she just please stop & think?

So please don't be stallin'

Her head is all corrupt

Can't you see that she has fallen'

Her fat-mouth can't shut-up!

Big Mouth Surgery

We need to find her a shrink

Hurry please there doctor

Before she drives us all to drink

Big Mouth Surgery

She's heard north, east, west & south

Who gave her brain a laxative?

Got diarrhea of the mouth!


Big Mouth Surgery

No pill can take effect

Hurry please now doctor

She is a mental wreck

Our minds: she made us loose

Her words: just seem to ooze

It's so hard: to take a snooze

We just drown all-day in *****

Beer, Whisky, Wine & ***** . . .

To wash away our ear-ache blues!


Yip Yip Zip Lip!  ...Yee Haw!

(c) 2009    David Wayne Clare

CLAIRVOYANT MUSIC / BMI

all rights reserved

in perpetuity
Rockin country by...
David John Clare
written in Jakarta Indonesia
clairvoyant music bmi
ankit nayar Aug 2014
******'s mush and britney's bush-
things that make you cringe.
paul bunyan and ***** hoes-
mouthful of wood.
beieber's twig and a dodo-
nobody has seen them for a long time.
rednecks and squirrels-
store nuts for the long winter.
and **** livestock.
this isnt a poem.this is a slur to all of you that take it up.
Allen Wilbert Oct 2013
Music

Running out of time, nothing left to rhyme,
no longer in my prime, listening to Sublime.
Used to smoke ****, slaves I have freed,
red I still bleed, listening to Creed.
I'm all that, I have kicked my cat,
my girl is a brat, listening to Ratt.
Invented a love potion, makes girls frozen,
many things I've broken, listening to Poison.
Buried in the sand, not what I planned,
I need a helping hand, listening to The Steve Miller Band.
Too many cell phones, can never get any loans,
love the show Bones, listening to The Rolling Stones.
Confessing all my sins, playing some violins,
dizzy from the spins, listening to The Thompson Twins.
Standing in the cold, my life is uncontrolled,
just got paroled, listening to Avenged Sevenfold.
Sprayed with mace, kicked in the face,
stuck in this rat race, listening to Three Days Grace.
Working the graveyard shift, lots of sand I must sift,
my life needs a lift, listening to Taylor Swift.
Living in Illinois, tired of hearing noise,
losing all my poise, listening to The Beach Boys.
No hands on the clock, it's me people mock,
dryer stole another sock, listening to Kid Rock.
Music has made me what I am,
loving the hairbands and the glam.
Hard rock is all I know,
how could you not like Ugly Kid Joe.
Heavy metal is where it's at,
all the older bands are bald and fat.
Top forty isn't half bad,
every year it's a different fad.
Disco and grunge had a short stay,
Nirvana and Pearl Jam, get too much air play.
Hip hop and rap has been around to long,
can they even sing a real song.
Nothing will ever beat the eighties,
spandex, hair and all the ***** ladies.
My two favorite songs are Sister Christian,
and Here I go Again,
those songs remind me of way back when.
Country, well that will always ****,
rednecks, Nascar, hunting and a giant truck.
D'Arcy Sahn Oct 2014
I sat on a rock and stared
At the wisps of cloud
Obscuring the blue of the sky
The grey drew nearer
And I realized it was not merely grey
But aqua, navy, burnt, and yellow
I tried to scream
No words left my mouth

Then they left the sky

Plummeted to the earth

From the shelter I had taken only seconds before

I saw them

Those ducks

Those stupid ducks

Those stupid suicidal ducks

Destroy what remained of my garden

May one thousand starving rednecks boil you alive

As I watch my garden be avenged.
Constructive criticism welcomed. Thanks to Ena for the idea.
Big Virge Sep 2014
I move in ... " The Dark " ...
Like ... Deep Sea Sharks ...
Therefore ... " My Bite's " ...
Worse Than ... " My Bark " ... !!!
  
Why HATE ... because ... ?
My ... skin tone's ... DARK ... ?!?
  
Racists ... NEED ... !!!
A change of heart ... !!!!!
  
"Some Aussies" ... seem to ... ?
Think they're .... SMART .... !!! ....
  
Well ...
It's ... NOT WISE ...
to make me ... START ... !!!!!
  
"Sydney" ... NEEDS ...
..... My Poetry ..... !!!!!
  
What makes them think ... ???
it's ... " Their Country " ... !?!
  
"Rednecks" ... NEED TO ... !!!
" Leave " .... The Beach ....
and check back through ....
  
.... " Their History " .... !!!!!!
  
I'm DARK ... like ...
.... " Aborigines " .... !!!
  
"Who" ....
Just like ... ME ...
will ... NEVER SEE ... !!!
  
A time where ... we ...
are ... FREE ... to live ...
and ... NOT ... Witness ...
  
HATRED .... from ....
" Redneck " ... RACISTS ...
  
Trust in this ... !!!
My Darkness ... HITS ...
A ...  Rednecks' Lips ...
with ... POTENT ... scripts
that would .... " Befit " ....
  
A day where sunlight
is ... " ECLIPSED " ... !!!!!
  
Why are ... So Many ... ?
AFRAID of ... " The Dark " ...
  
Yet seem ... Afraid ...
of ... "Truth Filled" ... light ... ?!!!?
  
" Party Times " ...
are .... YES .....
  
.... At Night ....
  
and ... ****** Highs ...
Usually ... take flight ...
Long After ... YES ...
Sunlight Shines ... BRIGHT ... !!!!!
  
Darkness ... Rules ...
My ... " Inner Mind " ...
and helps ... Design ...
  
..... " Poetic lines " .....
  
My use of ... rhyme ...
is ... " WELL REFINED " ...
  
to speak on ... " Darkness " ...
WITHOUT ... Harshness ... !!!!!!!
  
Reality's ... BITE ...
is ... STARK and
.... HEARTLESS .... !!!
  
Racism ...
I DO NOT ... " Harness " ... !!!!!
  
But ....
Darkness ... now ...
is how ... things are ... !!!
  
that may seem ... Harsh
but is ....... " THE TRUTH " ..... !!!
  
So ......
Don't you ... start ...
to say ... My Mind ...
is ... Primed to write ...
Rhymes that send out
  
" NEGATIVE " ... vibes ...
  
I'm shedding ... LIGHT ...
On ... " Racist Fights " ... !!!!!
and ... Other Things ...
Within ... My Sight ...
  
while ...
" Most " ... Ignore ...
Until ... They Fall ...
down to where the ...
  
" Dark Ones " .... CALL ....
  
" DARK " .....
Black Holes ...
to ... BUY ...
  
" Your Soul " ...
  
Don't get ... "Caught" ... !!!
you may get ... " Bought " ...
and find that life ... is just ...
  
..... TOO SHORT .....
  
to ... Reject Light ...
  
OPEN ... Your Eyes ... !!!!!
  
and ... REALISE ...
Walking ... "blind" ...
Won't Help ... " Mankind " ... !!!
  
Darkness reigns ...
in skies ... these days ... !!!
Especially when ... Oil Depots ...
  
.......... BLAZE .......... !!!!!!
  
BIG ... " Dark Clouds " ...
across ... Our Towns ... !!!!
  
Things like ... this ...
are causing ... FROWNS ... !!!!!
  
"Darkened" ... MOODS ...
as fuel .... " POLLUTES " .... !!!
Our ... Atmosphere ...
and Peoples' ... food ... !!!!! ...
  
Oil is ... CRUDE ...
and in ... " The News " ...
  
I'm Saying ....
Can't ... " These Fools " ...
  
... " COMPUTE " ... ?!?!?
  
or ... " Manage " ... things
that need ... TIGHT SCREWS ... !!!!!
  
Clearly ... NOT ... !!!!!
  
They're ... Needing Clues ...
on how this ... Started ...
in the ... " DARK " ... ?!!!? ...
  
Things are now ...
Falling .... apart .... !!!
  
Like i've ... said ...
Reality's ... STARK ...
  
" REALITY " ....
  
Sheds Light ... for me ...
on things ... " Most Folks " ...
DON'T WANT ... "to see" ...
  
..... " Poverty " .....
Breeding ... More Thieves ... !!!
.... " Violence on "
Our ... Darkened Streets ... !!!!!!!!
  
Cash Scandals ...
from ... Companies ...
who have ... "Close Links" ...
with our ... " MP's " ...
  
Armies ... who ...
now ... DESTROY ... Peace ... !!!
and leave more ... " Broken Families " ... !!!!!
  
These are ...
  
" DARK TIMES " ... !!!
  
I think you'll find ... ?
  
Unless you ... " Choose " ...
to be .... inclined ....
to ..... look away ......
and turn ... " blind eyes " ...
  
You may find ... that ...
You'll be ... surprised ... !!!
because ... " Such Actions " ...
are ...... " UNWISE " ...... !!!!!
  
Walk in ... " The Light " ...
NOT in ... " The Dark " ...
before ... Your Life ...
Gets Ripped ... APART ... !!!!!
  
Don't play ... " Smart " ...
cos' ... Nature Now ...
is ... Hitting ... HARD ... !!!!!
and .... NOBODY ....
Can Pull ... " It's Card " ... !!!!!!
  
" Big City " ... Lights ...
are ... NOT SO ... bright ...
  
Just like ... " Class "
Life's Now  ... A Farce ... !?!
  
Do what's ... NEEDED ... !!!
Show Some ... HEART ... !!!
  
It's NOT ...
That Hard ... !!!
  
Before our hopes
and dreams ... and world
  
become a place ...
  
That's COLD ...
........ and .......
  
..... " Dark " .....
Inspired, in part,
by the, Cronulla Beach Violence,
in Australia, and the,
Buncefield Fire in England ......
Glen Brunson Jan 2013
halfway home from
that concrete-bowl arena
teeming (heaving) with
stinky-sweat-soaked rednecks
layered in sawdust and grease

      a messy blackface mob
      spreading spit tobacco
      over their naked bones,
      they sneak around
      through the drafty back hallways
      casually scattering
      dad’s old shotgun shells
      fresh cigarette ash
      mamma’s whiskey labels
      and let-this-be-broken pregnancy tests.

      rusty dogtags clink together
      sliding between camouflaged denim
      mocking quick African rhythms

      circular saws scream over
      the echoing footfalls of
      steel-toed boots padded with
      suspicious glances

and my lonely power lines
are laying lazy across the
sweet, forgiven sky

honeysuckle weep
as they hug the barbed-wire  

the sunset smells something like grace
Allen Wilbert Oct 2013
Zombies Or Rabies

Walking around one afternoon,
foaming at the mouth, like a rabid raccoon.
Was I bitten by a dog,
I couldn't tell through the fog.
Is Cujo on the loose,
with a possum, I tried to ******.
Walking sideways to the local clinic,
people are laughing, thinking it's a gimmick.
Feeling like a poisoned zombie,
starting to cry and wanting my mommy.
Cars are trying to run me over,
I'm playing Frogger and red rover.
At the point, where I can't even speak,
I am way up on ****'s creek.
This might happen to you if you're bit,
sure wish I had a survival kit.
I feel the need to feed on flesh,
it tastes so good and so fresh.
Blood is dripping down my face,
Walmart seemed like the right place.
No one cares about rednecks and minorities,
I may have rabies, but I still have my priorities.
Old people and fat ones too,
what other kind of people are better to chew.
Am I a zombie or severely rabid,
whatever it is it's spreading so rapid.
People I've killed are starting to rise,
it's Halloween, so we need no disguise.
Inside Walmart is the walking dead,
old women with no teeth are giving me head.
All the doors got bolted shut,
a crowded Walmart is doing the zombie strut.
The military has surrounded the store,
foaming at the mouth, is so worth dying for.
Can hear the jets as they fly by,
their about to bomb Walmart, till we all die.
I escaped through a secret trap door,
I'm about to go on a feeding frenzy tour.
Michael Bauer Feb 2015
walking through the big flea market

off of highway 19 north of Tampa

looking for whatever and something

curious and kitsch or campy



merchants selling in the parking lot

used blenders and old cameras

burnt out or faulty devices

DVD cases and game cartridges



old rednecks shout out opinions

in a cacophony of drawled signifiers

representing visions of despotic rulers

reigning a tyranny of taxes and decline



old glass containers and windshields shine

scattering high afternoon sunlight in the Sunday sky

sitting and resting used and content waiting

waiting for the wear and reduction of time



the market continues into indoor aisles

criss-crossing within a ramshackle structure

plywood walls supporting sheet metal roofing

an aroma of every greasy food wafting into one



people wrapped in worn fashions

whites in Ts and denim

muslim women in headscarves

a black deputy strapped down in uniform



the deputy enforces commerce laws

around the alternative marketplace

a variety of commodities are still available

bongs and e-cigs and incense and **** ****



parakeets cry out down one aisle

a stack of blue aquariums drone a bubbling hum

the stench of cedar and rat **** and hamsters

reptiles basking in the arid glow of heat lamps



all is right in America’s America

the flea market is the floorboard of that promise

an opportunity for anyone to begin

or start again and over and over



a liberal conservatism can be guarded well

with rifles or tazers at bargain rates

a conservative liberalism is applied openly

in the atmosphere of everyone for anything and everything



the dream of the flea market

a black market and a carnival

all of America’s cheap art on display

its people swirled into one



equal in their struggles and desires

reaching for resources and derivatives

buying low and selling higher

stealing and selling short



walking through the big flea market

on a hot and cloudless Sunday afternoon

looking for whatever or something

it’s a fun thing to do


**originally posted to my blog https://sublimeobscenities.wordpress.com on 4/27/2014
jeffrey conyers Aug 2018
The rednecks didn't see it.
Obviously, many of us did.
The bigots refuse to acknowledge it.
Although we weren't.

Nothing about the redheaded clown fool us.
All his connection seems to be corrupt.
And now they turning color like the rainbows.

Still, the foolishness continues on.

When you defend a communist based country which your money seems to have been built.
But tear down your own agents of the best.
You were only fooling yourself.

Now your lawyer became wise.
He has a family with he mustn't cut his ties.
Your FIXER is a corrupt guy.
Not only him many others falling by the waste side.

Run Trump Run.
The feds are coming, the feds are coming.
The supporters that hated upon the best-qualified woman.
Now trying to defend this fool even more.

And look at his second in command.
He makes no sense.
Standing in the background like a fool too.

Cause the redheaded clown found him a flunky and a fool.
But this CONGRESS  that attacked President Obama now facing their own election drama.

We aware now that Obama always stood taller than the clown.
Even those against Hillary must admit they didn't want a woman running the country.

Democrats women are more outspoken.
I can't say it's in their DNA.
But their spouses let them say what they have to say?

Can't say much about this first robotic lady presently in the white house.
We know in some opinions only she seems to have a husband.
Who's a louse?

Run President Run.
We were very aware you were dumb.
Run, run, run but you show can't hide.
A classic Temptations line.

Now, look at others trying to distance themselves from the man.
***
aix, beck's, becks, blech's, checks, cheques, czechs, dec's, decks, dex, eckes, eques, ex, fecks, flecks, flex, heck's, hex, jex, kecks, lecce, lex, meckes, mex, necks, nex, next, peck's, pecks, plex, rex, sheck's, shek's, specks, specs, sphex, tech's, techs, teck's, tex, treks, vex, whelks, wrecks, x, x. amex, ampex, annex, apec's, apex, armtek's, avtex, aztecs, berlex, caltex, cemex, centex, cmx, comex, complex, comtrex, convex, crownx, defex, dissects, duplex, effects, ejects, entex, execs, expects, eyetech's, fanech's, fedex, finex, gatx, gtech's, inmex, intex, latex, memtec's, metex, natec's, nobec's, nymex, nynex, objects, onex, opec's, paychecks, paychex, pemex, perplex, pewex, playtex, portec's, projects, qintex, quebec's, railtex, rednecks, reflects, rejects, respects, roughnecks, scitex, simplex, starplex, steinbeck's, subjects, suspects, syntex, telex, telmex, tenrecs, timeplex, tridex, trintex, triplex, truex, vertex, visx, wall-tex, wedtech's, westtech's adaptec's, ametek's, atx, banamex, between decks, biotechs, bottlenecks, cineplex, cybersex, cytotechs, datarex, discotheques, equitex, eurochecks, gendrisek's, genentech's, govpx, hyponex, intellects, intersects, kaisertech's, malcolm x, medarex, mediplex, megaplex, memorex, methanex, metroplex, middlesex, multidex, multiplex, neorx, oraflex, pillowtex, prentnieks, rolodex, stratoflex, superx, symantec's, teleflex, turtlenecks, unisex, ventritex adaptaplex, ameritech's, audiotex, begonia rex, ****** simplex, solar apex, videotex, tyrannosaurus rex, regression of y on x
Lee May 2013
The day sets sudden into summer shimmering
blind beasts patchy and lost
wander hopelessly along the tarmac trails of rubber foot caravans.
My mind races rancid thoughts forward
the winner takes all
that winter melancholy waving funeral flags at the finish line.
I'll bite down my teeth on the metal masculinity
and taste holiday nostalgia:
burning meat,
drunken rednecks,
fireworks just past dusk,
that mixture of sulfur and black powder,
fumes.
I can't keep on like this,
knees shaky from miles measured in ruby minutes.
I'll eat this city whole,
carbon emission load before my final marathon.
These teeth will shine down like symmetrical clouds in the sky
my mad mans brittle grin.
I used to wish:
for finer living in laps of luxury;
for nights wrapped in silk, sweat, shine, and infamy;
for heavens gates to open pearly white to golden streets for me.
Those days have lost their charm
beaten dreams that bellied up
and showed their starving guts.
Submitted and laid down
with their tails tucked between legs
and panting for mercy
my dreams play bottom ***** to reality's sadistic hand.
As for now;
I hope.
Hope I can hold the fire in my hand
to burn my life and this city to the ground
the pile of ashes will bare no souls return.
That silent hour,
I want to be alone and involved
in the fashion of dogs.
I'll wander off alone to the trees.
My brittle ribs showing
the silent cage of my black and tired heart.
The trees will whisper their names to me
as my spirit shakes their shining leaves in rising.
Goodbye you lion;
your angel face was as quiet as ever,
slack and pale under a harvest moon.
Didn't really know what to call it, so I called it that. I'm open to criticism, you tend to overlook things when you're looking at your own work.
Jake muler Oct 2015
Hot latte, with some chocolate dust sprinkles on top. Man I will be frank, Americans got it to easy, to easy. That's the american way. To many American's now have it to easy, ******* off of government funds away from the one's who really need them. We got a ghetto every 5 or 10 miles. A suburb every few miles, a mansion 1 to every five burbs. We got It easy with groceries, a store we get food from! Dont need to grow food anymore really, everything is manmade poisoned and antibiotic shots in your chicken and beef. We have dudes who wanna buy women, or men that wanna buy men. Even men who wanna buy trannies ( transexuals) or dudes who buy woman who are really men. but what countrys not that way. We got all different creeds breeds all here. Doctor's you can pay 200 bucks for the illegal way to get scripts, prescriptions for the not knower's. We have mad alcoholics here like no tomorrow. And serious ****** and dope addicts, We have jocks, idiots, goths, strippers, musicians, the best actors in the world. Along with the best movies. We have the old western U.S. we have the east coast where oceans you can get from the south to the east to the west. We have hillbillies, rednecks, gangsters, wannabees, liars, thieves, killers, rapists, city boys, country girls, Mercedes Benz, old pickup ford, motorcycle gangs -baddest ever.. We have everything here to get you in jail, hell and heaven. We can make you sin. Or make you want to repent. Come to us. Come to the united states of america. Forgot a big thing! The soilders. We got the best marines army navy all soilders in the world here.we have the most weapons of any country in this weird place. We have soilders who lose their lives for things they think their fighting for when really its rich overshadow government money their fighting for. We got huge graves, big tombstombs. Mostly marked with men who died unrespected from world war 1 , 2 and possibly three sometime in our sunny future. Welcome to America. Heaven and hell in one slice.
Catrina Sparrow Nov 2012
once upon a time,
a doctor told her that her heart was broken.
a war drum with a worn-out head,
just waiting to bust.
now her nightmares of heart-attacks haunt her at all hours;
she hates knowing that she's destined to beat herself to death.
she's never felt this worthless.
lately,
she's been wondering what drownding feels like,
she never thought it a topic to ponder,
but the water makes her feel so free.
she'd so much rather rest beneath the waves
than sit and wait for her engine to fail.
maybe she should fly more often,
tossing back tiny bottle after tiny bottle
of six dollar whiskey,
fingers crossed that they'll all fall down into the sea.
she'll sink if she tries hard enough.
a heart condition translates directly into
"incapable of loving, or ever being loved"
in her eyes,
so why ******* try.
now she burns bridges like roman candles
and shells out all her cash on any day that rent isn't due;
no point in holding on to what you can't take with you.
she stains her flesh instead.
words she only wishes you'd have whispered in her ears instead of stuffing them into envelopes,
her favorite flower,
and a hawk feather,
for whatever luck she can get.
sometimes,
during her morning cigarette,
she laces up her sneakers and bolts,
as fast as she can in any direction,
just to see if her heart can take the heat of her heavy feet skimming over the street.
the engine in her chest revs loudly,
like the car of a teenage boy.
they're all little boys-
she's a woman.
she's pretty positive that everyone cries at night-
even the dogs and the crickets and the birds.
we've all got nightmares,
hers just happen to seep out and taint the daylight.
what she needs,
is to befriend the monster under her bed.
he can feed on her inner demons and stitch up her heart with his glaring smile,
and hazle eyes.
in turn,
she'll share her bed
and now and then,
he can rest his head on her chest and translate the siren songs of her unsteady pulse.
she needs a ******* friend.
one who always cares instead of a good few who only ocasionally pretend to.
someone who's more than willing to walk a few blocks to dollar beer night,
and braid her hair for her while she yaks in the trash out back.
yeah, something like that.
it's her heart,
not yours.
or yours or yours or yours.
but her's,
and it hurts.
it races all night like nascar rednecks who pointlessly drive in circles for hours.
don't tell her how to fix it,
or not to worry,
or that everything is going to be fine.
it's not.
it's her heart,
and it hurts.
Kyle Kulseth Jan 2016
It aches when I smile.
My State's a disaster.
Coal rollers, burnouts and days full of rapturous
laughter and "Red Face"
down in Lusk in the hot days
of Summer--it's boiling;
Winter winds burn up your face.
I first learned to hate
myself in a snowstorm
on Dow Street in Sheridan.
My best friends are the slow warmth
that spreads through the chest,
lifts a cold heart, grabs popcorn and pints
at the Blacktooth on hundreds of nights.
And 500,000 simple souls are a sight.
Still they're just half a million salty
drops in the ocean--
A quick squall of rain on the Bighorns.
They've opened the floodgates for *******,
morons, bigots and rednecks
and rich, ******* ranchers thinking
          everyone owes them.
And their dollars are deadpan
gallows jokes down in Cheyenne.
But I've seen cheap smiles 4 miles wide
out by Sundance.
And I've got good friends that I still carry with me
like the potent, sweet, earthy afterburn of good whiskey,
or the smell of the lodgepoles in the Spring
up in Story.
And it's still my home
even though it's so empty.
It's still my home
though it sometimes seems ******.
That State's in my bones,
I don't think it'll leave me.
So please understand that some nights
when you find me,
you've stumbled across a small splinter
chipped off of Wyoming.
My relationship with my home state of Wyoming is kinda complicated. There's SO much about Wyoming that really *****. It's sparsely populated, largely rural and hidebound, unquestioningly conservative (the "'Red Face' down in Lusk" is a reference to "Legend of Rawhide..." check THAT one out, cuz **-LY ****); you sometimes run into a lot of really ****** attitudes and ways of thinking. But, at the same time, there's so much jaw dropping beauty there, too, and so many people with open, generous, accepting hearts. I've had tons of really heart wrenching experiences back there, but also tons of really awesome, fulfilling experiences too; plus, some of my very best friends are back there.

Form-wise, I really don't think I like what this poem turned into. But, eh, whatever.
M Clement Mar 2013
Gas station, masked man
   Save tolls for the gas can
Clean feet, ***** dozen
   Remedies for the cousin

   Sweat shops, floor mops
Save the blood for the dance floor
   Bewitched, leg twitched
Good Aiming Rednecks

Saving gay couples from the ***
I'm reading Michael Robbins, at the moment, and I find his style similar to what I wish I could write. Stuff that's open, a little ******, but honest and witty. Maybe that's what I already write; I'm not sure, but this is an offspring of mimicry.
JL Oct 2011
I've come to realize that your not from this town
You are some long place away
The trash that I live in

I walk the streets
or drive my car
I know all the drug dealers
And all of them know me.

All the hippie guys
who are stuck on some concept
smoke ****
eat shrooms
become god
kinda concept

All the rednecks
Trucks and Jeans
tabacco spit

This trash town
that I love so much
the gas stations
at midnight
we are lost as can be

but what does it matter
when you aren't here
you're in some far town
across years of rain soaked highways
bright headlights
miles

— The End —