A translucent and luminous race
And a kind of wonder conquered his fear
As he wondered what had taken place
Were these the victims of a long-dead cat
That had broken them all with its claws
An episode so traumatic that
It caused a moment in time to pause?
Or carrier pigeons killed in a war
Delivering messages from hand to hand
And though the battle was no more
Cruelly fated to never touch land?
Did they represent an extinct breed
As if preserved in a museum display?
Or pests that were killed eating poisoned seed To rid a garden of noisy play?
They were his pets and he was their friend
Their songs kept him awake no more
He hoped when it was his time to end
That he too might sing and soar
A mastodonut will get hair on your tongue They’re so stale they’re extinct, and that ain’t young.
The astronautilus floats like a living balloon In the dark sea of space that embraces the moon.
And the pyramidiot sits with his hands in his lap An Egyptian design to his fool’s dunce cap.
Elephanthill tunnels could fit subway trains Those pachyderms burrow through Earth’s membranes.
Vertebrains muse as they drift through the sky Spines trail like tails as they glide by.
The antiquestion is as old as the sun When’s a single a pair and two things one?
BLUE OAK TREE
In old Ash Grove Cemetery it resides
Squirrels in its branches and moss on its sides The oak with the sapphire blue leaves.
For a hundred years it claimed its space
Before that strange change took place
The oak with the sky blue leaves.
The last leaves it shed were a crimson hue
But that Spring’s buds were all colored new
The oak with the blue, blue leaves.
Some say the oak tree changed inside
When Miss Mary Long committed suicide
Hanging amidst its once-red leaves.
At night when the sky is black as tar
And the oak tree looms like a ladder to the stars You’ll still see Mary amidst those blue, blue leaves.
THE EMBRYOS
Old Lloyd shot his coon hound when he discovered that It had coughed up a fetus with wings like a bat.
But this mysterious curse wasn’t confined to his dog Lloyd hacked up a fetus that leapt away like a frog.
Soon the librarian then the mayor then a sizable bunch Produced more of these imps when they recycled their lunch.
They trapped each in a bottle like a distorted doll And preserved them alive in alcohol.
These hideous infants could give quite the scare They had enough to supply every last country fair.
The town built a new barn and lined all its shelves To keep those jars locked up safe away from themselves.
But soon enough the town woke to a blast in the night Some infernal spark caused the alcohol to ignite.
Everyone watched as ash rose aglow in the sky The soaring embryos aflame as they vanished on high.
PHONES
The phone is a weapon more insidious
Than a nuclear bomb
The ring corrodes my nervous system
A slow, cancerous torture
The bill collector waits til the kitchen-white gun Is to my temple
And makes me shoot myself
My blood is in the mail, I assure him
Lying, of course
Dracula, Nosferatu and Vlad
My friends
Called me the other day
Poured their intestines in on their end
And they came out through the holes
Like those of a meat grinder
On my end
Then they sucked out my blood
So on their end it would spray through the holes Like those of a shower faucet
Hey, what are phones for?
They give everyone in the world a voice
To nail into my head if they so desire.
BEDROCK
Wilma and Fred will end up dead
In Bedrock
Their bones will be found all stuck in the ground In Bedrock
Barney and Fred will have a fight
Hit each other on the head with a trilobite
Lay like Pompeii clay and turn bleached white In Bedrock
Dr. Leakey would get freaky at the goings-on
In Bedrock
Darwin would be howlin’ at the madcap times
In Bedrock
The Creationists all up in arms
Not amused in the least by Dino’s charms
They got their own theories ‘bout those bones and cairns In Bedrock
Kubrick’s got it wrong there’s no Zarathustra song In Bedrock
And don’t misconceive there’s no Adam or Eve
In Bedrock
National Geographic will be hearing bells
And more mystical types won’t be feeling well When they find that man dawned on animation cells In Bedrock
I love the pratfalls of those Neanderthals
In Bedrock
I’m the biggest fan of Cro-Magnon man
In Bedrock
Pebbles and Bam Bam are the missing link
Got an elephant trunk in their kitchen sink
Those were the days I’m inclined to think
In Bedrock
(And with a little luck we’ll stay alive
Live with the Jetsons in their bee-like hive
Isn’t life fun on channel five?
Gimme Bedrock)
A CHRISTMAS CARD
May today light the way for brighter tomorrows May you lose all your money so you have to beg and borrow May your foot go in your mouth so you have to eat your words May you look to the sky and get hit with pigeon turds May you be stranded in the Sahara without a drop of water May Polish siamese twins impregnate both your daughters May the streets of your future be paved with bricks of tin May a midget in a bad mood come up to kick your shin May you be pecked and stung a lot when you learn the birds and bees May the Great Dog of Life come to consecrate your tree May you fall and be impaled on a stale loaf of sliced white bread May your next blind date be with one of the living dead May you find your dear grandma is really a shameless floozy May the president drop an atom bomb in your new jacuzzi May the horseflies of good fortune follow you where you go May you trip and fall face first in a pile of yellow snow May a baboon in a snit punch your cousin in the gut May a mutant mold from Mars come to colonize your butt May your next sexual conquest rate your performance with a yawn May each of Santa’s reindeer leave an offering on your lawn At this Christmas time of year may God bless us every one And may He drink too much punch and squash you just for fun.
FAITH
As I’m whirled backwards in circles
Covered in gusts
I look deep in the nest
Intestines of rust
Fragile eggshell humans
Strapped in paint-flaking cars
Swung like maces in the arms of a squid
I cling to my restraining bar
I grin-grimace in fear
I guess this is fun
To be propelled through the air
As though shot from a gun
This is my space shuttle
The rock music a countdown
Will I be cast and explode
Above this carnival town?
I trust my paper flesh
To her brittle bolts and creaks
Her rust stains like shit
But my faith is weak.
She drives us to work
Claps her hands and we crash
She lasting volcano
We transient ash
She reads my heart pulse
Churns out frisbees and shoes
And delivers her own babies
She spits out our news
I’ve been chained to her will
At her feet I strive
For decades her slave
But she keeps me alive
Shoe-cutter, palletizer
Each machine has a name
Ultraviolet plate-burner
And I’m called the same
I am the palletizer
I’m industry’s fool
But she’s more important
I’m an expendable tool
Life is computerized
The Earth inherits the meek
And the Earth is a tractor
And my faith is weak.
I make love to the monster
I endorse her manifestations
I need her mirrored toaster
I watch her TV stations
Her electric blanket drapes me
I gape at Gilligan’s Island
But she breast-feeds her TVs
With her busty Three Mile Islands
She’s a demolition derby
And we are born into her cars
She’s our rocketship of fools
She gives us neon stars
We forever need her life support
And I forever wear my g-force frown
She’s a robot Mother Nature
In a chrome and iron crown
It’s a symbiotic relation
We’re joined like a circus freak
My dependence never falters
But my faith is weak.
There are more silos filled with missiles
Than silos filled with grain
In a world of mass starvation
We’re expected to call this sane
They’re the foundation of our country
Practically below our feet
Like springs coiled in the mattress we sleep on Like the lamp-posts on our streets
No, they can’t be accidentally launched
They’re not like planes and trains that crash Or like the cars of carnival rides
Which God will sometimes dash
We’re expected to laugh as we spin
In the end it’s a matter of trust
We’re in the hands of God
And God’s caked thick with rust
I’m a baton twirled at His mercy
If I live I’m a lucky streak
And my faith is weak.
900 FOOT JESUS
There are many TV shows for God
But of course this is the right one
And I am tonight’s special guest
Here to tell you of my vision
I was under a sky of stone
Surrounded by flame but unburnt
Just a special guest like now, you see
To find what Dante learnt
There rose a frightful wailing
As from slaughter-headed hogs
And looking down around my feet
There lay corpses of cats and dogs
But no! They squirmed and cried
The sound of full damnation
But mind—you aren’t to think
It was a Hindu reincarnation
They were demons of a wretched sort
Perhaps once of human guise
Though Satan is their master
It is Satan they despise
It isn’t better than serving in Heaven
They aren’t happy that they fell
One forlorn cat blinked and whispered,
“My friend, this sure is hell.”
Oh!—my misery in that dismal world
There was no cool place to hide
When suddenly I was in safe shadow
A mountain by my side
It was He the never-eclipsed Son
With whom no Buddha could contest
He God’s gift to all mankind
Who loves us Baptists best
The Catholics see Him as a little necklace
Most men never see Him at all
But Jesus appeared to me, you see
And He was 900 feet tall
Towering like the Statue of Liberty
His torch of love forever lit
A monument to peace and harmony
Those foreigners have nothing like it
And He said,
“I brought you here that you would tell others They must cleanse their gritty souls and repent Cast out your hate! Cast out your sins!
Cast to me your dollars and cents!”
And lo! He took me up from that place
He took me up in the palm of His hand
As in a skyscraper’s elevator
Or a ride at Disneyland
No grotesque pet to Satan, I!
In no Styx galleon shall I row oars!
My God is my Lord and Father
And my Father can beat up yours
And Jesus His Son looms like a rocket
God’s Godzilla stomping into the city
Admit you’re wrong, that He is King
And just maybe He’ll show you pity
For He is an all-forgiving king!
Remember those witches we burned at the stake?
As many as Nazi-gassed Jews we slew
All for the Lamb of God’s sake
Well, that’s over with now!
I can hate the blacks
And hate the Jews
(Though He’s one, too)
And con, and steal, and exploit the weak
And never for forgiveness lack!
For I’m always in good grace
I’m one of the Master’s Race
All I have to do is say I’m sorry
And I can die with this shit-eating grin on my face He’s big, He’s bad, He’s beautiful!
He’s Mad Max, Reagan, Duke, King Kong
He’s got big heart, and biggest balls
(Though He doesn’t use His dong)
He is Big Brother, He’s my big brother He is everything I am
I am loving, strong, and right
I am Uncle Sam
You are wrong, you don’t love God
Your works are dirty rags to His gaze
He doesn’t care if you feed the poor
If you aren’t like me He will set you ablaze!
So pick on me, I dare you to!
I will run to the Prince of Peace for help
And He’ll smote you with a rolled-up Bible
And like the dog you are you’ll yelp!
Don’t try to contradict me
There is no debate you can win
The Holy Bible is my fortress
The only truth contained therein
No army can scale these cement walls
My armor never will be pierced
With an arrow of dissenting thought
Jesus and I will sit on our porch
In a white swing sipping lemonade
And wag our heads sadly for you
As we watch you slide down Satan’s blade
Mourning that you lost the war
To us, the troops of the Holy One
And me, a general of course
One of His Napoleons
Them’s the breaks, accept your fate
Don’t blame me, don’t make a fuss
You snubbed Him, fool, and it’s too late
No niggers on our golden bus
Admit that jealousy makes you hate
For you don’t have my Porsche and pool and estate And the guardian of our country club’s gate
Is my pal 900 foot Jesus.
ORANGE SOCKS
Orange socks stuffed
With so many pounds of meat
Like Christmas stockings from hell
Orange bags for trick or treat
Her killer’s a celebrity
An embossed cover and silver foil title
While she’s a buried black and white photo
All blurry anonymity
No one has claimed her
But on him a film was based
Yes, it was a good one
But her history’s been erased
Was she not a daughter or a wife?
Is her family, too, all dead?
Or are they too busy reading books on Manson
To admit she had a life?
We’re supermarket voyeurs
With no real interest in the criminal mind
We just want to know how he killed her
As we stare at her bare behind
Her screams are long-passed echoes
She’s just an extension of him now
Just a price-tagged cadaver, another victim
In a country rife with psychos
To satisfy petty cruel desires
He stripped her clothes and identity
And now his desires are our desires
As we revel in his insanity
We’ve rewarded him with fame
Who punished her with death
Out of pure disgust and rage
I refuse to give his name
GHOST IN THE AIR CONDITIONER
She invited me into her apartment
I thought, soon into her body
Her life
At work we’d wrestle and tease
Play
But in her apartment in silence
Right around the corner from work
We’d just watch the TV play
While I teased and wrestled myself
She was wild and alive
Then sober and unhappy
And I was afraid and lustful
And wondering if I loved her
Or just wanted release
And a confused person to be strong for
So I could feel strong
That in helping her find direction
I would find mine
Do lust and protectiveness
Walk hand in hand
Is that what makes love
Is that what makes a man?
She thought her apartment was haunted
Knocks on her narrow bedroom’s walls
And strange sounds from the air conditioner
A poltergeist—or “noisy spirit”
A restless being, a hungering soul
Reaching out to communicate with her
So I went there to listen for it
But the ghost never came
And as it turned out
It was only birds that had nested
Inside the dead air conditioner
A mother feeding babies
There was no ghost
Just a rusty machine
With hungry animals hiding inside.