DAYTIME MUDS

the cornered rage

of campsite firelight

makes an old master

of our daytime mud

~

digging the mud

high street lobotomy

they buy time

six main courses

& lobotomy trifle

~

silicone births

ravenous ghosts

ante up

for the old rivers 

dried soul

ONLINE SHOPPING THRU YOUR LAST MEAL

all the circuses of time 

somehow gone to doom & rusting away

           ray bradbury

terminal kids

beyond-their-years medical knowledge

&

bald-headed
boil-in-the-bag serenity

is

tv
agitprop
to stifle our righteous rage

& they gaslight us
into a consumerist death wish

& i for one
sure feel the need

for some new shit
for when its time to die

FAIL TO RAGE, FRAGPOPS

our words 

tool meanings

been wrenched

agenda heavy
into blaming 

yellow rags

~

we owe it all

to topsoil 

& precipitation

& we have failed to rage
at the paving of it all

plastic

collecting

in our

bystander 

balls

POEMS FOR ALIENS, A PARTIAL GUIDE TO EARTH Nos 6 & 7

6. PAIN

a hurt
of sore
agony

we assume
ends at death



7. MONEY

minimum wage
maximum wage

and all the rage in between

most ALL of it
most NONE of it

and all the rage in between

pic from hexrpg.com

THE ONLY SECRET IS ATTACK

imagine a rage

a rage hot enough
to
terraform
the
artless
tv screen

and
to
melt apart and reform

all the idiot instruments of man

imagine

imagine it 

the only secret
is attack

from businessinsider.com

TWO MORE POPLINGS

1. MONEY

i know what you DID

i whisper angrily
at the money
i drew out
the hole in the wall

i know EVERYTHING
and one day soon
we WILL be coming for you . . .

i was seeing red mist
i was puffed up with rage
i was absurd

but
the
two small plastic notes
showed
no
visible
reaction

and it was a small triumph enough
to
spend
them
on
books
by 

heller & wyndham & victoria e bynum

in
the
steam cleaned
twilight zone
of
a
charity
shop 

pic from yell.com

2. BOMBS OUT THE STABLE DOOR

you built me

the bomb said

with your

cutting edge science

you KNOW what 

im gonna do next

so put me on a plane already

and

quit

your

whining

you didnt make custard pies

did you ?

pic from bfi.org.uk

WORD POP

i write without rage
my tired eyes are destroyed flotillas

i
am
unbent / forced calm in the fiery force

under
hallucinatory
memory
spume 

 

 from illustratedfirstworldwar.com - battle of jutland