Placebo Town (revisited)

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Is Love
just another
four letter word
given a death sentence?

Is the weight of Hate
greater than a feather?
With Anubis guarding
a mythical entrance
to a heavenly existence?
You’ll need to travel light
if you wish to transcend
beyond the broken ground
of this forsaken Placebo Town

With loud voices
taking away choices
Sometimes too little?
Sometimes too much?
Such is life
in this world of strife
Where they’ll turn
your smile
into a frown
by hanging you
upside down
from the whipping post
known as Placebo Town

“They” . . . being
the men from Area Grey
who program you to say
“Get well soon 😷”
to all the sleepers
wearing fluffy slippers
encased in death’s cocoon
“Lovely to meet you!
… And have a nice day.”

And “You” …
is who?
As your future
is bought and sold
at the market of insecurities
With the master’s apprentice
holding the lever
Your least debt
feeding the much richer
Awake!
For heaven’s sake
there ain’t no winning
this Monopoly game
The Big Shake Down
is played for keeps
in Placebo Town

As for “Me” . . .
me in the East
under that age old yoke
of some new priest
spreading the sacrament
of a religious virus
By force feeding me
his tainted yeast
Yet my stomach is empty
as my skin is brown
But “You” …
you in the West
who in privileged power
play around
with the lives of us
who are gagged and bound
But keep taking it easy
Have a nice rest
For surely Armageddon
is soon a-comin’
to Placebo Town

Is this existence
a swirling vortex
of which I must make sense?
Am I
You
We
all living a pretence
at truth’s expense?
Living and dying just inches
from a sure gate in the fence?

Are we colour
living in contrast?
Or black and white
out of focus?
Just a biological blast
projected onto
some future past?

Am I
Me
True Blue?
Am I to be
well and truly set free
to live in the presence?
Dwelling forever within
the heart and soul
of holy mindfulness?
Providence with a love purpose?
I’m on a divine promise
The Word given
In name
in deed
and in person
The one who
inspires my pen
Who is faithful and true
Honestly… apparently
a loving spoonful of truth
is the right recipe
With integrity
like a hot shot
of espresso coffee
Am I just decaf?
A cold cup of chai latte?
Having been plucked
roasted and ground down
in that infernal place
called Placebo Town

The Lover of beauty
seeking perfection
Finding mercy
in the all knowing
Master Craftsman of Creation
Requiring the giving
and the taking
of an occasional selfie
at the Right & Royal
Navel Gazing Academy
The path of virtuosity
an unexpected journey
The righteous answer
always searching
the altitude of gracious latitude
as all hell
with brakes broken
and the heavens descending
Finding a true friend
Even better
the Salvage Master
A brother with a spare dime
at the Laundromat
of Space and Time
As the Good Samaritan
crosses all tribal lines
Through the headwinds
at the crossroads
the sign of a wonder
From the one
who shadows over
a multitude of crime
Not the rumour of a gossip
from the marketplace
Not a trace!
Not the whisper of a sound
heard through the din
of Placebo Town

The Taker
An alpha predator
climbing from the crater
of wordly power
Just another scavenger
with his pants on fire
is the master’s apprentice
from the golden tower
A silver tongue preaching
to the “Rat Race Choir”
as the All Star Evangelical
guns for hire
strut the catwalk
of a Dog Eat Dog Empire
Where the trained to heel
practised in the art
of the crooked deal
are “Keepin’ it real!”
The cold and the hard
with a frozen smile
given an inch
will take a mile
It’s always peak hour
on the dirty boulevard
of Placebo Town

The Faithkeeper
keeping faith with
the one and only Great Spirit
And with just
an ethereal mantle for cover
upon a wing and a prayer
is prepared
for an evil visitation
A celestial battle
with a skyclad Wayshower
of borrowed power
and under the spell of delusion
Channeling nothing more
than the deepest regret
The mere glimmer
of a haunted shiver
Paper lanterns are being lit
against a twister
deep in the nocturnal hour
Those seekers
upon paths that glitter
in the darkness of night
yet skulk under cover
and flee from the light
bring only the litter
from a spiritual gutter
A subterranean burial mound
There can only ever be
one true path
for the heavenly winner
nirvana bound
in this the final round
As lines of division
are being drawn
on barren ground
with the charred bones
exhumed from the tombs
of Placebo Town

Where might makes right
as the neighbourhood bully
has his very own police force
and military
Where there’s a scarcity
of veracity
Where mercy has gone missing
Yet grace freely taken
but seldom given
by the heirs and graces
of the unforgiving
with their minions of corruption
and industrialised destruction
Where truer words
never are spoken
Where oppression is the weapon
Where loving kindness
is a weakness
Where deception is the poison
malicious and religious
Both domestic and foreign
Where souls are downtrodden
bartered and broken
by the vicious victorious
Yet the stone free
of fomo faux rebellion
running hungry
like angry young Warhols
are couch surfing
with Lady Liberty
in the confusion
of a hollow delusion
called Democracy
Where mystery
is the secret
that mysteriously
keeps raking in money
Like celebrities lecturing
the political correction
Or else overdosing
on the armchair of moralists
ceaselessly trolling
Geriatric politicians
are cashing in
whilst sniffing back a tear
smelling the fear
of a millennial generation
lost in the maze
of online
brand name advertising
Tuning in to the diatribes
of broken pride
from a fallen tribe
taking bids on the side
for the body and soul
of the eternal child bride
In a graveyard breeze
the questions left hanging
As the blind will guide
the gullible to a spirit feasting
Where keyboard warriors
are desperately seeking
the cyber crown
of a fabled kingdom
never to be found
Along with the unctuous
and the funktious
all dwelling
in the cellar
of Placebo Town

The Seafarer
seeking truth
Does all plain sailing
make you a plain sailor?

“A sea journey …
to the heart of darkness!
What could be better?”

Best be prepared
to be boarded and searched
by Captain Alpha Omega
the interstellar traveller
from escalator
to service elevator
on a mission … with permission
my soul to retrieve
Lost in the weave
of a wicked web
A weave so tight
you’d forget how to breathe
One stich at a time
crossing a finite line
As virtue retreats
in the land of giant deceits
going down without a sound
that fashionable plug hole
known as Placebo Town

So down and laid low
past tired and sore
like a piece of junk mail
shoved under death’s door
I felt the flow
of water living
A celestial upwelling
The Spirit uplifting
Heard the whisper
on the wind
like a mighty roar
“Ten Four!”
from above and beyond
and even more
Angels from every angle
in awe and keeping score
The Living God commands
just as death so demands
honesty in absolute totality!
How can any man
born of a woman stand?
Before the shadow surrounds you
with a fear you just can’t see through
look to the Son
… in person
with a clear view
To the One who
is faithful and true
His Kingdom will Come!

The Dinki Di
bursting out from behind
the shadow in your eye
As dark energy
switches back on the lights
from way on high
and dark matter
with glory … reignites
The concealed revealed
Amazing is the grace
as the curtain comes down
on a cold dark place
called Placebo Town

The Pusher
pushing for proof
Is Life a one shot
self inflicted wound
eternity bound
down the barrel of a gun?
In a land of bumper sticker opinions
it seems everybody’s got one
No truth to be found
in Placebo Town

The User
chasing a desperate treasure
beyond hunger’s full measure
Over black seas
under red skies
past the last post
to the hitching rail
Covered in the dust
of a crooked trail
With a past
you just can’t disguise
in word or deed
In need of that
wonder working teflon
There is a strong tower
in the distance
deep within your conscience
longing to give you shelter
With a door
that’s ever open
for the truly fair dinkum
Before you’ve shot
that final viral load
check out the road less taken
out from a petri dish of desolation
When all said and done
look to the Son
Ashes to diamond
His Kingdom Come!

The Believer true
with integrity
you just can’t drill through
The criminal environmental
upon a supernatural mind renewal
Debris free
and out from the putrid puddle
of a mystical puzzle
Now recycling
every blessed molecule
that’s been Injected
moulded and thrown
into that landfill
known as Placebo Town

Life …
for a time
a privilege divine
Recreation
Revelation
A true revolution
Sensual and blissful
the intimate sensation
of celestial happiness
Just beginning
Endless loving the promise
All over flowing
from a wellspring within
Morning sunshine
The infinite sublime
Rivers and streams to cross
from valleys deep
The mountains to climb
in the shadow of your wing
Unity in purpose
A battle yet to win
Motivation service
to the Lord of all Creation
As the bell of truth rings
I’ve still a way to go
till I get to the sea
through all the to and fro
May the road rise
and the waters flow
Hope * Faith * Love
In appreciation of what
an unexpected tomorrow may bring
from the heavens on down
As the crow flies
and the angels sing
severing the last
remaining string
Healing the sting
of that zero ground
called Placebo Town

~ by David B. Redpath © 2018-2020

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Photography:
David B. Redpath © 2018-2020

571 thoughts on “Placebo Town (revisited)”

  1. Placebo Town

    for reasons unknown
    blind children were forced to attend
    Sunday School in the basement
    served institutionalized food
    when everyone else
    devoured the home-style
    blessings of Aunt Bea
    (famous for telling her husband that only the dead
    wear shoes in bed)

    undesirables
    were forced to sit
    on the outer ring
    far from the stove
    hardly able to hold
    a prayer book
    with frozen
    hands

    the only thing I know
    about religion
    I learned from thieves
    baby-nappers
    and murderers

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I do try my best to not let
      the ostentatious religious ,
      and overtly self-righteous,
      get between me and Christ.
      Otherwise … I’m allowing
      a hypocrite to be closer
      to God than me 😎

      “But understand this, that in the
      last days there will come times
      of difficulty. For people will be
      lovers of self, lovers of money,
      proud, arrogant, abusive,
      disobedient to their parents,
      ungrateful, unholy, heartless,
      unappeasable, slanderous, without
      self-control, brutal, not loving good,
      treacherous, reckless, swollen with
      conceit, lovers of pleasure rather
      than lovers of God, having the
      appearance of godliness, but
      denying its power.
      Avoid such people.”

      ~ John the Apostle

      “For by grace you have been
      saved through faith, and that
      not of yourselves; it is the gift
      of God, not of works, lest
      anyone should boast.”

      ~ Paul of Tarsus

      Like

    2. Paul McCartney
      on the cover of Abbey Road
      Barefoot
      dressed for a burial
      and escorted
      to the other side
      by the Fab Trinity

      🎶 So Sgt. Pepper
      took you by surprise
      You better see right through
      that mother’s eyes
      Those freaks was right
      when they said you was dead
      The one mistake you made
      was in your head
      You live with straights
      who tell you, you was king
      Jump when your momma
      tell you anything
      The only thing you done
      was yesterday
      And since you’re gone
      you’re just another day
      A pretty face may last
      a year or two
      But pretty soon
      they’ll see what you can do
      The sound you make
      is muzak to my ears
      You must have learned
      something in all those years
      Ah, how do you sleep
      Ah, how do you sleep at night 🎶

      ~ John Lennon
      Whose grace and forgiveness
      knew no bounds ☮️

      Like

  2. Main Street Placebo Town
    a painful series of self-justifications

    a living lost and found
    of dissociated sensuality
    fancy ribbons around knobs
    the pangs of pleasure and pain
    fingers helped push what little inside
    they spoke of it as halving but it was more

    Liked by 1 person

    1. With our backs
      to the wall
      we lucky few
      stood our ground
      against the powers
      and principalities
      of Placebo Town
      Till finally
      a dreaded knight
      wearing a flaming crown
      mortally wounded
      my closest ally
      and truest brother
      A tactical retreat
      was soon ordered
      by the Giver of Light
      to flee for another day
      to resume the fight
      So I took to flight
      upon the wings
      of the night
      Counting the cost
      yet not all was lost
      I still had that lust
      for freedom’s plight
      As the Most High
      was most patient
      and kept me in sight

      Like

  3. eating canned food in a backroom
    no longer materialistic
    he listened to old Dylan tunes
    “Mr. Tambourine Man”
    music to render living thought
    something more than isolated sentences
    one hand was functional
    the other was base camp
    for his active senses
    ones he gratified

    Liked by 1 person

    1. On the turning away
      From the pale and downtrodden
      And the words they say
      Which we won’t understand

      “Don’t accept that what’s happening
      Is just a case of others’ suffering
      Or you’ll find that you’re joining in
      The turning away”

      It’s a sin that somehow
      Light is changing to shadow
      And casting it’s shroud
      Over all we have known

      Unaware how the ranks have grown
      Driven on by a heart of stone
      We could find that we’re all alone
      In the dream of the proud

      On the wings of the night
      As the daytime is stirring
      Where the speechless unite
      In a silent accord

      Using words you will find are strange
      And mesmerized as they light the flame
      Feel the new wind of change
      On the wings of the night

      No more turning away
      From the weak and the weary
      No more turning away
      From the coldness inside

      Just a world that we all must share
      It’s not enough just to stand and stare
      Is it only a dream that there’ll be
      No more turning away?

      ~ Dave Gilmour / Anthony Moore

      Like

  4. before Noah and his Ark made camp
    there was howling on the earth
    barbarians and their pets
    were established
    no break in evil
    weeds were quick to grow around the empty Ark
    uncertainty, apprehension, raw emotional conflict

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It really is
      a dirty rotten shame
      what’s been done
      in God’s holy name.
      And what’s more,
      as if that wasn’t enuff,
      is all the stuff
      left at God’s door.
      Especially since
      there’s a fallen angel
      who’s to blame.
      Better known
      around Placebo Town
      as Lucifer … or Satan.
      And he’s playing
      a low down game.

      “For my thoughts
      are not your thoughts,
      neither are your ways
      my ways,”
      declares the Lord.
      “As the heavens are higher
      than the earth,
      so are my ways higher
      than your ways
      and my thoughts
      than your thoughts.”

      ~ Isaiah

      “You will seek me and find me
      when you seek me with all your heart.”

      ~ Jeremiah

      “I love those who love me,
      and those who seek me find me.”

      ~ King Solomon

      Like

  5. Patsy Cline stopped by today
    trying to pick a fight
    she wanted a quick $50
    to get some diet pills
    I gave her $100
    and asked for a share
    later when she showed up
    she helped give the cat a bath

    every now and then
    a twinge of common-sense

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Patsy Cline went crazy
      and fell to pieces
      when I asked her nicely
      to do the dishes
      (I blame those little
      weight loss pills)
      So I gave her a bunch
      of poor man’s roses
      being ever so kind
      and went out walkin’
      till after midnight
      with leavin’ on my mind

      Like

  6. it wasn’t Patsy’s fault
    that the airplane fell from the sky
    the pain and guilt made her think of her father
    the old face-hugger had his moments on memory lane
    ear wax that stank and dry thin lips like a dead fish
    the doctors said that he was totally to blame
    but she knew how the baby got there
    the magic of being with a man

    Liked by 1 person

  7. some say that three rivers flow through Placebo Town
    Charlie Zero and I lived near the Harlem River
    pill-popping and Nine Inch Nails
    just a 100 feet from the landing
    where the dead were dropped
    no oxygen for lungs to churn
    FARTHER DOWN THE WAY
    the Worm was baptizing

    Liked by 1 person

      1. just think —-a conveyor belt
        pushing a continuous line of Jehovah’s Witnesses
        to the entrance on the other side of the river
        infernal vacation brochures in hand
        wolves ready to drag the children off

        Liked by 1 person

      2. The werewolves
        of tribal religion
        are ever on the prowl
        sniffing the ground
        of Placebo Town
        With each new victim
        you can hear them howl
        Lock up your daughters
        Lock up your sons too
        Those werewolves
        of abomination
        will do to them
        what they did to you
        A Babylon Confession
        for the once bitten
        joining the pack
        with a full moon rising

        Like

  8. in Placebo Town
    the narrator is often fragile
    fragile in a difficult theater
    where Merriam fingered thoughts
    of a dictionary
    a dictionary
    downward to
    darkness
    a dictionary of
    relentless memories
    broken teeth/frozen smiles

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The word virus
      of evolving conciousness
      from thought ashes
      and memory dust
      will outlive
      the foolish tongue
      and the swords hasty thrust.
      The venerated orator,
      at the veniversum centre,
      whispers, “Know thyself…
      for who else can you trust?
      And if you ever stray
      down Placebo Town way
      … Nothing in excess!”

      Like

      1. Dylan came out on stage with wet semen in his shorts
        singing about the virus that has sharp nails
        honey sweet cakes, not just any virus
        the one of evolving consciousness
        a wind devil in memory dust
        a thrust of the sword
        that hangs over
        the foolish
        tongue
        +++++
        THE CRY OF THE UNJUSTLY PUNISHED
        the self-contradiction of an excess
        mathematical meth by spoon
        “I want some more”
        (+) frequently
        misspelled

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I can dress up your wounds
        With a blood-clotted rag
        I ain’t afraid to make love
        To a bitch or a hag
        If you see me comin’
        And you’re standing there
        Wave your handkerchief
        In the air
        I ain’t dead yet
        My bell still rings
        I keep my fingers crossed
        Like them early Roman kings

        ~ Bob Dylan

        Like

      3. Far between sundown’s finish
        an’ midnight’s broken toll
        We ducked inside the doorway,
        thunder crashing
        As majestic bells of bolts
        struck shadows in the sounds
        Seeming to be the chimes
        of freedom flashing
        Flashing for the warriors
        whose strength is not to fight
        Flashing for the refugees
        on the unarmed road of flight
        An’ for each an’ ev’ry underdog
        soldier in the night
        An’ we gazed upon the chimes
        of freedom flashing

        Through the city’s melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
        With faces hidden
        as the walls were tightening
        As the echo of the wedding bells
        before the blowin’ rain
        Dissolved into the bells
        of the lightning
        Tolling for the rebel,
        tolling for the rake
        Tolling for the luckless,
        the abandoned an’ forsakened
        Tolling for the outcast,
        burnin’ constantly at stake
        An’ we gazed upon the chimes
        of freedom flashing

        Through the mad mystic hammering
        of the wild ripping hail
        The sky cracked its poems
        in naked wonder
        That the clinging of the church bells
        blew far into the breeze
        Leaving only bells of lightning
        and its thunder
        Striking for the gentle,
        striking for the kind
        Striking for the guardians
        and protectors of the mind
        An’ the poet and the painter
        far behind his rightful time
        An’ we gazed upon the chimes
        of freedom flashing

        In the wild cathedral evening
        the rain unraveled tales
        For the disrobed faceless forms
        of no position
        Tolling for the tongues
        with no place to bring their thoughts
        All down in taken-for-granted situations
        Tolling for the deaf an’ blind,
        tolling for the mute
        For the mistreated, mateless mother,
        the mistitled prostitute
        For the misdemeanor outlaw,
        chaineded an’ cheated by pursuit
        An’ we gazed upon the chimes
        of freedom flashing

        Even though a cloud’s white curtain
        in a far-off corner flared
        An’ the hypnotic splattered mist
        was slowly lifting
        Electric light still struck like arrows,
        fired but for the ones
        Condemned to drift
        or else be kept from drifting
        Tolling for the searching ones,
        on their speechless, seeking trail
        For the lonesome-hearted lovers
        with too personal a tale
        An’ for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
        An’ we gazed upon the chimes
        of freedom flashing

        Starry-eyed an’ laughing
        as I recall when we were caught
        Trapped by no track of hours
        for they hanged suspended
        As we listened one last time
        an’ we watched with one last look
        Spellbound an’ swallowed
        ’til the tolling ended
        Tolling for the aching
        whose wounds cannot be nursed
        For the countless confused, accused,
        misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
        An’ for every hung-up person
        in the whole wide universe
        An’ we gazed upon the chimes
        of freedom flashing

        ~ Bob Dylan

        Like

  9. the family learned to live with
    the backbiting, recriminations, accusations
    farts that smelled like plastic explosives
    visions of having the tonsils ripped out
    a finger removed with scissors
    the notched coldness
    of a zipper

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The culture club
      of Placebo Town
      is Primal Militarism
      Karma Chameleons
      dancing to the tune
      of tribal imperialism
      The citizens
      are most proud
      of this long tradition
      of synchronised killing
      With recent advances
      in mass production
      the invitation is open
      to women and children
      All chanting,
      “Peace … HELL NO!
      Let’s go, Placebo!”

      Like

    1. I went home
      with a waitress
      The way I sometimes do
      How was I to know
      That she had the Chinese Flu
      Scrounging all around
      Placebo Town
      I took a little risk
      A big fix of disinfectant
      Laying under a UV lamp
      Now I can’t feel my pulse
      … Hey
      Send doctors, nurses,
      And a respirator
      Get me out of this

      Like

    2. People simple
      People complex
      People estranged
      With abstract concepts
      People deranged
      And arranged at night clubs
      Like crime scene evidence
      People with pupils dilated
      And syllables senseless
      Staccato Notes
      Given a death sentence

      Like

  10. thinking back on the first time
    you saw the high-tide line
    on her thigh
    she told you crazy things
    that her family were native Americans
    their lifestyles little more than dirty limericks
    deceased native Americans
    wrapped in skin like a sausage
    lubricated and inserted
    into the backside of Perry Como
    +++++++++++++
    driftwood in the pubic hair
    and she tries to ignite herself
    you suddenly realize
    that you’re a 180 pound
    Zippo lighter

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Bob Dylan posters
    on most empty store fronts
    Placebo Town in the new Stones video
    living in a ghost town having failed to cease
    praise falls from the sky—–no body knows why
    the watered down children of native Americans no longer complain
    they no longer think about or fear the welcoming anus of Perry Como
    +++++++++++++++
    as perverted as it sounds
    one day Perry will take a most Holy Dump
    and a new Adam and Eve family will shoot forth
    no famine or disease just happiness and good will

    Liked by 1 person

  12. I wanted to take the pills
    I had them in my hand
    I had them in my heart
    the exit, the way home
    just a swallow
    my run of thoughts made audible
    meanderings and small town clichés
    holiday gifts:
    (+) sensitivity
    (+) poetic proclivities

    Liked by 1 person

  13. ——indifference to the sufferings of others——
    only the comatose are free of backward stabs of habit
    putting others face to face with harm
    foreskins shrivel back then fall off
    the clothespins much too strong
    a man is not a man
    without a dong
    ——————-a working dong, a welcome smile
    ——————-blubbering seniors asked to exit
    many things Adam refused to describe
    many things went without a name
    Eve often walked around blank

    Liked by 1 person

  14. on late night TV, comedians say things like
    “if Eve were alive today she would be busy
    purchasing frozen shrimp dinners
    at Dollar Stores”
    readers in Kentucky often ask me
    “who came first, Adam or Jesus”
    I often think about the Bread of Revelation
    how Satan collects dust
    from all the decomposed bodies
    that harbor on earth
    and makes a loaf of bread
    that he feeds to his army
    why would I think about that ?
    (+) biblical optimism in the apocalyptic soap opera

    Liked by 1 person

  15. just imagine a world
    lobotomized by a virus
    citizens suffering tension
    the need to conceal, the urge to reveal
    a piece of information with nothing to lose
    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
    the silly poets put the virus in a cabaret
    to sing songs to humiliate husbands
    to divorce any and all inspiration
    daughters of the dirty deed
    do and live, do and control

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The culture of Placebo Town,
      is Comatose Post-Rigor Mortis.
      Dirty deeds are done dirt cheap
      by the graffiti artist, and renowned
      brutalist, SpongeBob SquarePants.
      Who now lives in a Placebo Palace,
      as even his excreted waste fetches
      a very high price. The lost Zeitgeist,
      of Tomorrow Past, convulses and
      retches in a half empty glass.

      Like

      1. better to vomit in a half empty glass
        than a half full one
        ++++++++++++
        nosy and puritanical neighbors
        senior citizen art critic types
        the racking cries of pain and pleasure
        drift over from the Honeymoon Hotel
        couples who found companionship in a tavern
        sexually frank females, voracious on top
        it was always “Daddy-Daddy” till the ring
        the accomplishment—nothing serious (STD)
        a sign in the john reads: “impropriety welcomes warts”
        ++++++++++++
        people get paid to hand out the address and phone number
        of a doctor who will freeze off those genital growths
        destitute college grads hand out the advertisements
        old strippers with protruding vaginal sheaths
        and completely wrecked rectums

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Rigor Mortis of the penis
        that crazy movie where the woman
        rides her dead boyfriend and gets pregnant
        she leaves his body in the bed
        and it turns black
        ++++++++++
        most people don’t know
        that the stiffness of death
        only lasts three or four days
        (poets and employees at the funeral home)

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Was that the movie
        staring Mick Jagger?
        His performance
        in ‘Performance’ was better
        than in ‘Ned Kelly’.
        As he didn’t have that certain
        heavy saddlebag swagger
        of a real Aussie bushranger 😎
        More the strut of a stoner
        with a sticky finger.
        I think he did it for the money 🤑

        “If you start me up
        If you start me up
        I’ll never stop
        You can start me up
        I’ve been running hot
        You got me ticking
        going to blow my top
        If you start me up
        I’ll never stop
        Spread out the oil,
        the gasoline
        I walk smooth,
        ride in a mean,
        mean machine
        Start it up
        If you start it up
        Kick on the starter
        Give it all you got,
        I can’t compete
        with the riders
        in the other heats
        If you rough it up
        If you like it,
        I can slide it up
        My eyes dilate,
        my lips go green
        My hands are greasy
        She’s a mean,
        mean machine
        Start it up
        Start me up
        Ah, give it all you got
        You got to never stop
        Slide it up, baby,
        just slide it up
        Ride like the wind
        at double speed
        I’ll take you places
        that you’ve never seen
        If you start it up
        Love the day
        when we will never stop
        Tough me up
        Never stop
        You make a grown man cry
        You made a dead man come”

        ~Mick Jagger/Keith Richards

        Like

  16. having been infamous in the past
    NOW
    they are minutes from discovering my identity
    I’ve asked advice but will advice come ?
    busloads of Japanese tourists
    will battle over my remains
    possibly making wind chimes
    from my bones

    Liked by 1 person

    1. “It is the business of the future to
      be dangerous; and it is among the
      merits of science that it equips
      the future for its duties.”
      ~Alfred North Whitehead

      A stateless person
      of no visible means
      nor recognisable religion
      fleeing Placebo Town.
      Another desperado on the run
      The wanted poster read,
      “Do Not Approach.
      This Man is Known
      to Carry a Gun!”
      I just scratched my head
      as I didn’t even own one.
      But they got one thing right
      as the poster finally said,
      “This bad boy just
      wants to have fun.”

      Below the glass ceiling
      of Placebo Town,
      where truth is unwelcome,
      reality is but a fleeting
      and uncomfortable sensation.
      The ceaseless itch
      of a torn spiritual stitch
      always demanding
      much self medication
      (It helps a little
      to be very rich).
      That empty void
      ever crying out
      for a mind numbing filling.
      The prescription pad of love
      patiently waiting.

      “For I know the thoughts that I think
      toward you, says the Lord, thoughts
      of peace and not of evil, to give you
      a future and a hope.”

      ~ Book of Jeremiah

      “I keep asking that the God of our Lord
      Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may
      give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better.I pray that the eyes of your heart
      may be enlightened in order that you
      may know the hope to which he has
      called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength.”

      ~ Paul of Tarsus

      For God so loved the world that he
      gave his one and only Son, that
      whoever believes in him shall not
      perish but have eternal life.

      ~ Book of John

       He is the exact living image
      [the essential manifestation] of the
      unseen God [the visible representation
      of the invisible], the firstborn
      [the preeminent one, the sovereign,
      and the originator] of all creation. 
      For by Him all things were created in
      heaven and on earth, [things] visible
      and invisible, whether thrones or
      dominions or rulers or authorities;
      all things were created and exist
      through Him [that is, by His activity]
      and for Him. And He Himself existed and is before all things, and in Him all
      things hold together. [His is the controlling, cohesive force of the universe.]

      ~ Paul, the Apostle [Amplified]

      Like

      1. Self indulgence
        is it’s own injustice
        Living to work
        working to live
        for food and board
        A pat on the head
        from the walking dead
        your greatest reward
        Self expression
        a cosmic revolution
        Freedom beyond
        the captive horde

        Like

  17. Placebo Town
    home of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher
    if one slips the guard $10
    one can kiss
    the spot where the True Cross was planted
    I tried to explain it to some Russian soldiers
    but they were only interested in the price of fox fur
    Placebo Town has a huge black market in furs
    everything passes through town
    from tabby kittens to snow leopards
    20 years ago one could purchase true rhino horn
    vagrants lonely for companionship
    having cultivated a thick exterior
    fear no germs or ailments
    all acts of love involve jabbing
    the more brutal they jab
    the less they feel
    HIPS or LIPS

    Like

    1. The wildlife wet markets
      of Placebo Town
      is where The Velvet Underground
      got their sound
      It took David Bowie’s harmony
      to then transform it into money
      In the City of Angels
      a snow white succubus
      nearly did Bowie in
      sucking the life out of him
      with a silver spoon
      and a quick LA fix
      So Bowie took up his cross
      and fled for Berlin
      From then on
      he was never without
      his golden crucifix
      The Sex Pistols were born
      fully deformed in London
      screaming class warfare revenge
      with the noise of used syringes
      and rusty razor blades
      perforating human skin
      But that shooting gallery sound
      was stolen by Malcolm McLaren
      from a beauty parlour
      for seasick sailors
      located in Placebo Town
      Where a statue has been erected
      of Sid Vicious and Johnny Rotten

      “I wanted to believe me.
      I wanted to be good.
      I wanted no distractions.
      Like every good boy should,
      my-my.
      Nothing will corrupt us.
      Nothing will compete.
      Thank God heaven left us
      Standing on our feet.”
      ~ David Bowie

      Like

    2. the final episodes of the Passion of Christ
      was it four or five ?
      the postcard shows Mary
      arranging irises in a vase
      Mary is never transparent
      a cautionary note:
      do not discuss
      the subject
      of abnormality
      (speak not of the magnetism of Mary)

      Liked by 1 person

  18. a subcommittee
    on what action to take
    Sid Vicious with his musical talent
    it was enough to make people nervous
    he was given a dose of the Hong Kong Flu
    but he was just too lewd for such a lightweight virus
    much like when the entire Soviet Union moved to America
    and went belly up, not prepared for the nonstop demand for funds

    Liked by 1 person

  19. in lower Placebo Town
    the vice squad have stopped
    showing their dongs in the latrine
    and are focusing on measuring distances
    God help you if you’re short of six feet brother
    of course, there are those who pussyfoot
    lazy people with their half measures
    to ensure the public interest
    is being served
    they maim
    offenders

    Liked by 1 person

    1. George Michael
      couldn’t
      be woken up
      after taking a placebo
      Just another
      high flying tall poppy
      copping a low blow
      takin’ his love to town
      where the big knobs hangout
      under flashing neon
      Lust placed in a line up
      by that fighter of crime
      the renowned Jungle Jim
      His guilty feet
      covered in rhythm
      Don’t forget
      to turn the lights out
      before you go-go
      No need to shout
      Michael is a no-show

      Like

  20. I PHOTOCOPIED ART
    now art is erasing my history
    all the Googling, the Wikipedia
    no longer myself—I’m someone else
    the same sex partner of Sherlock Holmes
    on a subatomic level back to Noah and his wife
    if one were to view my insides—particles from the Ark

    Liked by 1 person

  21. I saw Tennessee Williams cross the street naked
    he was carrying a cage with a colorful bird
    it was all swagger and swearing
    impotent behind bars
    powerful wings
    ready to escape
    to be misunderstood and locked up
    a thousand thoughts with no bridge to cross
    lovers across the way living so much more openly
    waving and screaming, “we love your chubby dong”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I was caught
      in the headlights
      of a red hot Ferrari
      Was I up to this
      high octane
      engine capacity?
      Built like a Formula One
      Engineered for fun
      A model made to party
      With piston rings of fire
      that roadster named Desire
      was faster than a bullet
      from an assassin’s gun
      In his day
      Tennessee Williams
      had his way
      But all I can say
      is that Desire had me
      like a rabbit on the run

      Like

      1. THAT COLOR RED THAT COLOR RED FERRARI RED
        every drop of my family’s blood
        hung upside down
        till the buckets were full
        it took a true measure to make that red
        THAT COLOR RED THAT COLOR RED FERRARI RED

        Liked by 1 person

      2. “I am the mother of sorrows,
        I am the ender of grief”

        ~ Paul Lawrence Dunbar

        When my baby
        is walking down the street
        I see red, I see red, I see red
        How can someone wicked
        walk around free
        I see red, I see red, I see red

        You gave me
        such precious hours
        What to do without you
        Squeezed me out of your life
        Down the drain
        like molten toothpaste
        I feel used and spat out
        Poor old me
        When my baby
        is walking down the street
        I see red, I see red, I see red
        How can someone wicked
        walk around free
        I see red, I see red, I see red

        I am fed up with crying
        My despair is drying
        Draining into rage day by day
        Green before you met me
        In the pink
        when you let me love you
        I was blue
        when you let me down
        Black and blue
        When my baby
        is walking down the street
        I see red, I see red, I see red
        How can someone wicked
        walk around free
        I see red, I see red, I see red

        ~ Spit Enz

        Like

    2. WHEN I SAW Tennessee Williams CROSS THE STREET NAKED
      I wanted to be him
      I wanted my lover to be colorful
      to set my bird free
      from the room under the elevator
      no, I’m not complaining
      I’m warm and safe
      having learned to enjoy
      the sounds of the others
      scoot up and down
      doing God knows what

      Liked by 1 person

  22. the shroud of darkness
    walled in by curtains of romance
    bruised, battered, and bound
    rendered into marriage
    well-guarded female parts
    naked before your eyes
    naked for the first time
    you ask yourself,
    “what do I do now ?”
    the strange weave of hair
    ribbons of flesh in a wad
    the colors are there
    but they seem wrong
    —————-this strange beast
    the daughter of Eve
    Sherlock suggested that she might
    be a mascot of Moriarty’s gang

    Liked by 1 person

    1. in bed with this strange creature
      a woman, perhaps a daughter of Eve
      Sherlock whispered in my ear after many tokes
      “she’s been resurfaced but I know that face”
      on a late night playbill
      it was her
      “a mascot of Moriarty’s gang”

      Liked by 1 person

      1. My second mother
        was a pole dancer
        of mixed ancestry
        Her mother was a Gypsy
        and her father
        a Chief of the Gurindji
        A Sharon Tate of ill fate
        with an Australian accent
        who couldn’t resist my dad
        a regular Crocodile Polanski
        She would parade all around
        the streets of Placebo Town
        driving the boys crazy
        with her Miami tan
        wearing nothing but a bikini
        A gold digger
        of the highest order
        I shall never forget
        the lessons she taught me
        For now she resides
        in the Colony of Leprosy

        Like

  23. Casanova Powder of Placebo Town
    renegade chemistry
    for the dong
    unsealed people moving in a reproductive manner
    characters who say that they believe in the Lord
    alive and living yet to be born
    going to B-Town for birth
    Jesus beating with a life
    of his own
    lost but following the arrows
    carved on the rocks
    not knowing they
    point in both
    directions
    the labor pains of literature
    repellant words there
    the honeymoon
    no more than
    a paragraph
    copulation
    with a male pimple
    squeezed in the name
    I-NEED-YOU-TO-SQUIRT
    IF-WE’RE-GOING-TO-MAKE-THIS-WORK

    Liked by 1 person

      1. “Jesus did many other things as well.
        If every one of them were written down,
        I suppose that even the whole world
        would not have room for the books
        that would be written.”
        ~ John, the Disciple

        Liked by 1 person

  24. rumor was that she had the largest
    electric bill in Placebo Town
    when I got up close and personal
    and saw the size of her porch lights
    Lord, the rumor must be true
    (the monologue in private)
    expressing her desperate plea
    for a second chance
    scenes behind her closed eyes
    seemed more real
    than any stage act
    or written words

    Liked by 1 person

      1. “Have this same attitude in yourselves
        which was in Christ Jesus [look to Him
        as your example in selfless humility], who, although He existed in the form
        and unchanging essence of God.
        [as One with Him, possessing the
        fullness of all the divine attributes—
        the entire nature of deity], did not regard
        equality with God a thing to be grasped
        or asserted [as if He did not already
        possess it, or was afraid of losing it]; but
        emptied Himself [without renouncing or
        diminishing His deity, but only
        temporarily giving up the outward
        expression of divine equality and His rightful dignity] by assuming the form
        of a bond-servant, and being made in
        the likeness of men [He became
        completely human but was without sin,
        being fully God and fully man]. After He
        was found in [terms of His] outward
        appearance as a man [for a divinely-appointed time], He humbled
        Himself [still further] by becoming
        obedient [to the Father] to the point of
        death, even death on a cross. For this
        reason also [because He obeyed and so
        completely humbled Himself], God has
        highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him
        the name which is above every name, so
        that at the name of Jesus every knee
        shall bow [in submission], of those who
        are in heaven and on earth and under
        the earth, and that every tongue will
        confess and openly acknowledge that
        Jesus Christ is Lord (sovereign God),
        to the glory of God the Father.”

        ~ Paul, the Apostle

        “The iron hand
        it ain’t no match
        for the iron rod
        The strongest wall
        will crumble and fall
        to a mighty God
        For all those who have eyes
        and all those who have ears
        It is only He
        who can reduce me to tears
        Don’t you cry and don’t you die
        and don’t you burn
        Like a thief in the night,
        he’ll replace wrong with right
        When he returns.
        Truth is an arrow
        and the gate is narrow
        that is passes through
        He unreleased His power
        at an unknown hour
        that no one knew
        How long can I listen to
        the lies of prejudice ?
        How long can I stay drunk on fear
        out in the wilderness ?
        Can I cast it aside,
        all this loyalty and this pride ?
        Will I ever learn
        that there’ll be no peace,
        that the war won’t cease
        Until He returns ?
        Surrender your crown
        on this blood-stained ground,
        take off your mask
        He sees your deeds,
        He knows your needs
        even before you ask
        How long can you falsely
        and deny
        what is real ?
        How long can you hate yourself
        for the weakness you conceal ?
        Of every earthly plan
        that be known to man,
        He is unconcerned
        He’s got plans of his own
        to set up His throne
        When He returns”

        ~ Bob, the Dylan

        Like

  25. having never had sex
    I ask a lot of questions
    is it the intensity of the moment ?
    does one step outside themselves like a hermit crab from its shell ?
    are there really fireworks ?
    the resentment of living in a world full of controls
    acquaintances wear costumes and false smiles
    when cornered by the monster
    the baby gets tossed
    to save the family
    human attachments
    have no place in nature
    fascinating psychoanalytical reading on the commode
    the trauma of maternal love withdrawal
    here today gone tomorrow
    12 years of rudeness
    they call school
    “what did you exchange for a walk on part ?”
    old men playing rock and roll appliances
    Beatle wigs with fake teeth
    and the discomfort
    of John Lennon
    broken

    Liked by 1 person

    1. guitars that have no strings
      Beatle wigs replaced with shaved heads
      fake teeth or real teeth no one knows
      Lennon no longer Lennon
      after all, he was just a pet
      his wife had a very special hole
      a gift from Satan for that
      gun fired signature

      Liked by 1 person

      1. There is a clash
        The Shaven heads
        Of Baal’s priests
        And assorted beasts
        Of craven idols
        All counting their cash
        The best saved for last
        Imagine a mystical tour
        Where a lifetime
        Of the Plastic Ono Band
        Is inserted up your arse
        A Grand Tour to the past
        For a final planetary bash
        With the undeserving worst
        Hippies lining up
        For a metallic
        hip replacement
        And a morphine blast
        No Apocalypso Zombie
        No respirator or face mask
        No placebo wannabe
        A Retirement Wonderland
        That could never last

        “London calling
        to the faraway towns
        Now war is declared
        and battle come down
        London calling
        to the underworld
        Come out of the cupboard,
        you boys and girls
        London calling,
        now don’t look to us
        Phony Beatlemania
        has bitten the dust
        London calling,
        see we ain’t got no swing
        Except for the ring
        of the truncheon thing
        The ice age is coming,
        the sun’s zooming in
        Meltdown expected,
        the wheat is growing thin
        Engines stop running,
        but I have no fear
        ‘Cause London is drowning
        I live by the river
        London calling
        to the imitation zone
        Forget it, brother,
        you can go it alone
        London calling
        to the zombies of death
        Quit holding out
        and draw another breath
        London calling
        and I don’t want to shout
        But while we were talking,
        I saw you nodding out
        London calling,
        see we ain’t got no high
        Except for that one
        with the yellowy eye
        The ice age is coming,
        the sun’s zooming in
        Engines stop running,
        the wheat is growing thin
        A nuclear era,
        but I have no fear
        ‘Cause London is drowning,
        I live by the river
        Now get this
        London calling,
        yes, I was there, too
        And you know what they said?
        Well, some of it was true
        London calling
        at the top of the dial
        And after all this,
        won’t you give me a smile?
        I never felt so much alike”

        ~ The Clash

        Like

    2. having never
      asked questions
      I had a lot of sex
      a bad boy for love
      always taking his medicine
      until some cosmic mutation
      took me beyond the horizon
      to another dimension
      as coloured vibrations
      danced amongst
      the timeless ancestors
      a kaleidoscopic celebration
      and for every question
      there was a myriad of answers
      with an all star cast
      casting glimmering vibrations
      all paths leading
      in the one direction
      an altar of strobing variations
      but Jesus the Christ
      was nowhere to be found
      in that brightly lit place
      of angelic deceptions
      I came down
      without a sound
      then spend years
      tracking the tears
      that smeared
      the painted facade
      of Placebo Town

      Like

  26. some say that they measure your dream time
    the average citizen, an unsealed envelope
    the battle between transgressive urges
    and the desire to suppress them
    prison sleeps at your front door

    Like

      1. “A worried man
        with a worried mind
        No one in front of me
        and nothing behind
        There’s a woman on my lap
        and she’s drinking champagne
        Got white skin,
        got assassin’s eyes
        I’m looking up
        into the sapphire tinted skies
        I’m well dressed,
        waiting on the last train
        Standing on the gallows
        with my head in a noose
        Any minute now I’m expecting
        all hell to break loose
        People are crazy
        and times are strange
        I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
        I used to care,
        but things have changed
        This place ain’t doing me any good
        I’m in the wrong town,
        I should be in Hollywood
        Just for a second there
        I thought I saw something move
        Gonna take dancing lessons
        do the jitterbug rag
        Ain’t no shortcuts,
        gonna dress in drag
        Only a fool in here would think
        he’s got anything to prove
        Lotta water under the bridge,
        lotta other stuff too
        Don’t get up gentlemen,
        I’m only passing through
        People are crazy
        and times are strange
        I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
        I used to care,
        but things have changed
        I’ve been walking forty miles
        of bad road
        If the bible is right,
        the world will explode
        I’ve been trying to get as far away
        from myself as I can
        Some things are too hot to touch
        The human mind
        can only stand so much
        You can’t win with a losing hand
        Feel like falling in love
        with the first woman I meet
        Putting her in a wheel barrow
        and wheeling her down the street
        People are crazy
        and times are strange
        I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
        I used to care,
        but things have changed
        I hurt easy, I just don’t show it
        You can hurt someone
        and not even know it
        The next sixty seconds
        could be like an eternity
        Gonna get lowdown, gonna fly high
        All the truth in the world
        adds up to one big lie
        I’m love with a woman
        who don’t even appeal to me
        Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy,
        they jumped in the lake
        I’m not that eager to make a mistake
        People are crazy
        and times are strange
        I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
        I used to care,
        but things have changed”

        ~ Bob Dylan

        Like

  27. when the wolves break down the door
    toss them the hairy baby and run
    escape and never look back
    painted and powdered
    ready for sodomy
    ————–when the wolves break down the door
    wear something that boldly reveals your bubble butt
    no matter how far down you go—never swallow
    men come and men go without a second thought
    some use the family bible for a pillow

    Liked by 1 person

    1. ‘The Potato Eaters’
      by Vincent van Gogh
      is a particular peculiar
      favourite of mine
      The pathetic sublime
      Vincent’s artistic insight
      fearlessly exploring
      a fugly horror comedy
      The Average Family
      Common man’s
      lowly fallen state
      Ugly-beauty
      Brutal reality
      For some it inspires
      only revulsion, spite,
      and hate
      Grace is an attitude
      Without mercy
      we would all be
      covered in grime
      Love covers the crime
      of a grasping multitude
      As I eat potatoes all the time

      Like

    2. half of the library employees
      are not humanoid
      curious about blonds
      all that artificial hair
      with a good source of light
      one can see the plugs
      the smell of store bought pee
      with a blast of vinegar flavor

      how many prostitutes in the library ?
      (just think—canaries in the kitten cage)

      Liked by 1 person

      1. The coal miners
        of Placebo suburbia
        they really don’t care
        One book
        is as good as any other
        Mining magnates
        and self published pimps
        paying their taxes
        in the Canary Islands
        Street librarians
        and green aliens
        gutter crawling
        the Bermuda Triangle
        with Leonardo Dicaprio
        in Morocco
        Lost dogs
        and homeless kittens
        Everyone looking
        for the perfect angle

        Like

  28. my friends blame their parents
    life boiled down to be an experiment
    Daddy treating the girls like prize cattle
    Boy Scouts and church folk trying to molest
    the craziness of the Beatles taking over control
    the Stones with a zipper on their suggestive cover
    America wanted to reach in there and squeeze Mick’s dong

    Liked by 1 person

  29. it only takes one witch to completely occupy Placebo Town
    she was a good witch, a bad witch, and a gossip junkie
    Yoko claims to be a witch
    but she is just a weakling
    signed her husbands name
    when Satan came to town
    two choices:
    (+) toss the child
    (+) toss the old man
    she got extra years to play “Queen Witch”
    standing up there in fame with her toad skin son

    Liked by 1 person

      1. witchcraft
        the little vanities and conceits
        teeth from beasts and monsters
        nostalgia painted on the lips of women
        how many times has brutality taken its kiss ?
        witchcraft dimly lit
        total darkness for the birth
        the layers of Mary out of sight

        Liked by 1 person

      2. The Man-Machine
        The Woman-Pagan
        As Florian Schneider
        takes to the Autobahn
        beyond the Kraftwerk
        the music lives on
        The sex magic
        of Wendy the Witch
        caused poor Casper
        the overly friendly ghost
        to come running
        with an ectoplasmic spasm
        A pyrotechnic explosion
        quickly ensuing
        The crafty warlock
        haunting a broken down
        stairway to heaven
        quietly watching
        A black magic woman
        and her coven
        have now stolen
        the electronic sound
        of a cyber generation
        and taken it
        for a pagan blessing
        to the Head Druid
        of Placebo Town

        Like

    1. A dark
      basement car park
      in Placebo Town
      is where the Egg Man
      was gunned down
      All the King’s men
      couldn’t put the Fab Four
      back together again
      As the last four hits
      of the Magical Walrus
      were all bullets
      Did he shiver inside?
      Did he swallow his pain?
      Was it just a crazy homicide?
      What did Yoko have to gain?
      That statue of Shiva
      hidden in her closet
      or secret agents
      of the surveillance state
      … who was to blame?
      Who made the world cry?
      I really want to know
      I’m just a curious guy

      Like

      1. just borrowed time
        first you are taught your ABCs
        then the Cosmic Clock pushed in your face
        you try to swallow and digest as much as you can
        oh Brother, don’t look away as hours and minutes fade away
        here today and gone tomorrow completely naked and ungodly afraid

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Beyond the static
        there’s a crack
        in the mainframe
        of Placebo Town
        A spiralling vortex
        of personal space
        where the A – Z
        of divine ecstasy
        can surreptitiously
        take place
        No nuclear clock
        shoved in the face
        The Spirit of Truth
        a vaccine of eternity
        with all shame erased
        is not swallowed
        but in solemn intimacy
        graciously embraced
        In the general vicinity
        of my comment section
        I express only a testimony
        Not shared in haste

        But when he, the Spirit of truth, 
        comes, he will guide you into all
        the truth. He will not speak on his
        own; he will speak only what he
        hears, and he will tell you what is
        yet to come.

        ~ John, the Disciple

        However, as it is written:

        “What no eye has seen,
        what no ear has heard,
        and what no human mind
        has conceived” …

        the things God has prepared
        for those who love him,
        these are the things God has
        revealed to us by his Spirit.
        The Spirit searches all things,
        even the deep things of God.

        ~ Paul, the Apostle

        Like

    1. A quick squid
      named Calamari
      with a wholemeal soul
      and an enticing entrée
      All olive oil on the boil
      Tentacle rings for sale
      Gluten and guilt free
      of any carbonara karma
      A rich thick jus
      poured liberally
      upon the primal parmigiana
      A classic recipe
      Yet never enough
      for the greedy hungry
      of an alien cuisine
      Since the Kitchen of Eden
      was forced to close down
      there’s been a drive-through
      serving fast food
      in the heart of Placebo Town

      Like

      1. a drive-through for those above ground
        readers with mushroom-shaped heads
        symbols of sexuality on the shoulders
        phallic wing-dings daily
        —————–a primary genital
        from the kitchen of Eden
        (Eve had a private playground with a slick slide)

        Liked by 1 person

  30. that Eden kitchen has stopped serving “guilty conscience”
    the Elders preach that death is the only exit
    think about our brother who died
    in a most painful way
    *******************
    theatrical realism with the kind of suffocation
    that poets find difficult to describe
    the enemy within

    Liked by 1 person

      1. In the kitchen
        of Hotel Babylon
        the indentured servants
        are all cursing their fates
        as they scrape the plates
        with no realization
        that their ticket to freedom
        has been purchased
        and stamped
        A sweet chariot waiting

        Like

  31. young people ignorant of romance
    affection carries the smart cut of a whip
    one just lubes up and makes mathematical
    any sensations of pleasure, a paroxysm of despair
    the violent passions securely linked to fiendish sources

    Liked by 1 person

  32. every day messages arrive from fallen friends
    that they have “waited too long”
    prior to puberty every child
    says, “this time will be different”
    every day messages arrive from fallen friends

    they’ve added another row of Robert Frost
    at the local library
    each volume
    a barrier
    not meant to be crossed
    the coming of fall and winter
    nature and its stages of cruelty
    I try to alert the library authorities
    that the future is escalating into the past

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Eurotrash
      crash survivors
      those lost love children
      of Jean Paul Gautier
      and Jimi Hendrix
      all making a big noise
      on the catwalks
      of Milan and Paris
      with their red carpet
      arm candy borrowed from
      the Placebo Town library
      and other assorted
      house trained pets
      But my speech to text app
      is unable to translate
      as it keeps turning off

      “Where shall the Word be found,
      Where will the Word resound?
      Not here,
      There is not enough silence.”

      ~ T. S. Eliot

      Like

    1. I need a shot of love.
      Don’t need a shot of heroine
      to kill my disease
      Don’t need a shot of turpentine,
      only bring me to my knees
      Don’t need a shot codeine
      to help me to repent
      Don’t need a shot of whiskey,
      help me be president.
      I need a shot of love

      Doctor can you hear me?
      I need some Medicaid
      I seen the kingdoms of the world
      and it’s making me feel afraid
      What I got ain’t painful,
      it’s just bound to kill me dead
      Like the men that followed Jesus
      when they put a price upon his head.
      I need a shot of love

      I don’t need no alibi
      when I’m spending time with you
      I’ve heard all them rumors
      you have heard them too
      Don’t show me no picture show
      or give me no book to read
      It don’t satisfy the hurt inside
      nor the habit that it needs
      I need a shot of love

      Why would I want to
      take your life?
      You’ve only murdered my father,
      raped his wife
      Tattooed my babies
      with a poison pen
      Mocked my God,
      humiliated my friends
      I need a shot of love

      Don’t want to be with
      nobody tonight
      Veronica is not here,
      Mavis just ain’t right
      There’s a man who hates me
      and he’s swift, smooth, and near
      Am I supposed to set back
      and wait until he’s here?
      I need a shot of love

      .
      What makes the wind
      want to blow tonight?
      Don’t even feel like
      crossing the street
      and my car ain’t acting right
      Called home, everybody
      seemed to have moved away
      My conscience is beginning
      to bother me today.
      I need a shot of love.
      If you’re a doctor,
      I need a shot of love.

      ~ Bob Dylan,
      on a really bad day 😎

      Like

      1. no mater how much is written about Love
        there is always concealment
        a degree of intelligent evasion
        a passionate denial
        ———————-well, Honey
        ———————-when the horns blow
        Love will be issued a fearless frontal assault

        readers purchase tickets to observe
        actors dish up emotional expressions
        fake anger and fake love in an empty soul
        Karma busy robbing the Jesus-paid-in-full

        Liked by 1 person

      2. With eyes wide shut
        it never pays
        to reveal too much
        as the heart hardens
        and lies get spoken
        Hiding behind a disguise
        of dark sunglasses
        and a mask of teflon
        a soul already
        bruised and broken

        “Love is patient, 
        love is kind.
        It does not envy,
        it does not boast,
        it is not proud. 
        It does not dishonor others,
        it is not self-seeking, 
        it is not easily angered, 
        it keeps no record of wrongs.
        Love does not delight in evil 
        but rejoices with the truth.
        It always protects,
        always trusts,
        always hopes,
        always perseveres.
        Love never fails.”

        ~ Paul, the Apostle

        “I’m getting weary looking
        in my baby’s eyes
        When she’s near me
        she’s so hard to recognize.
        I finally realize
        there’s no room for regret,
        True love, true love, true love
        tends to forget.”

        ~ Bob Dylan

        Like

    1. When it comes to doing harm,
      deep down, there’s an alarm.
      To avoid any guilt ridden wrath,
      at the Placebo Town Institute
      of Etiquette & Precoital Charm,
      they are taught
      to turn the alarm off.

      Like

  33. many a time I have emptied a bucket of tears
    at the Shrine of the Precoital Charm
    a hotbed of swollen leaking tissue
    safe from a medical construction
    a fancy term (love-ism)

    ignorant to the harm of early trauma
    America with its radical reformers
    intensely hostile to intellectuals
    sweet on soda and Robert Frost

    Liked by 1 person

    1. voluntary or involuntary dupe
      that’s the question for the gents
      sleeping outside in the thick night
      at the Shrine of the Precoital Charm
      some talk and some grunt like beasts
      love is in and of itself a painful index

      Liked by 1 person

      1. a backroom
        at the Shrine of the Precoital Charm
        offers lobotomizing services
        anything unsanctioned can be altered
        arrangements of words and images
        can easily change a frown into a smile
        (question not the cost of unchecked appetites)
        the poet sacrifices daily
        living and dying
        regardless

        Liked by 1 person

      2. “Give me back my broken night
        My mirrored room, my secret life
        It’s lonely here,
        There’s no one left to torture
        Give me absolute control
        Over every living soul
        And lie beside me, baby
        That’s an order
        Give me crack and anal sex
        Take the only tree that’s left
        And stuff it up the hole
        In your culture
        Give me back the Berlin wall
        Give me Stalin and St. Paul
        I’ve seen the future, brother
        It is murder
        Things are going to slide,
        slide in all directions
        Won’t be nothing
        Nothing you can measure anymore
        The blizzard,
        the blizzard of the world
        Has crossed the threshold
        And it has overturned
        The order of the soul
        When they said repent, repent,
        I wonder what they meant? ”

        ~ Leonard Cohen

        Like

      3. It’s coming from the sorrow
        in the street
        The holy places
        where the races meet
        From the homicidal bitchin’
        That goes down in every kitchen
        To determine who will serve
        and who will eat
        From the wells of disappointment
        Where the women kneel to pray
        For the grace of God in the desert here
        And the desert far away:
        Democracy is coming to the USA

        Sail on, sail on
        O mighty Ship of State
        To the Shores of Need
        Past the Reefs of Greed
        Through the Squalls of Hate
        Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on

        It’s coming to America first
        The cradle of the best and of the worst
        It’s here they got the range
        And the machinery for change
        And it’s here they got the spiritual thirst
        It’s here the family’s broken
        And it’s here the lonely say
        That the heart has got to open
        In a fundamental way
        Democracy is coming to the USA

        ~ Leonard Cohen

        Like

  34. ================================I saw Little Richard in the lobotomy line
    ==============================at the Shrine of the Precoital Charm
    =======================famous for masturbating 15 times a day
    ===================Little Richard has decided to give it a rest
    remove those memories==============================================
    as if the handshakes=================================================
    never happened====================================================
    ===============================trying to shield himself from a lifetime
    of capital letters and exclamation marks (motions kept at arm’s length)
    —————–
    —————–
    the headstone
    claims fame for sounds made
    but what about the daily struggle
    with loneliness

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Tutti Frutti Au Rutti
      All Fruits Are Broken
      (The mum’s and dad
      back in the 50’s had
      no idea what the heck
      Little Richard was singing)
      All Fruits Are Broken
      eventually … so baby,
      Daisy, let me be the first
      to burst your cherry?
      A-bop-bop-a-loom-op
      a-lop-pop-boom 💥

      Like

  35. it was later on in your life that they discovered new planets
    and it was even later when they discovered new numbers
    life took a great leap forward never to look back
    famous Satan quote, “the majority of angels are manual laborers”
    eternal labor with no breaks, no need to snooze or defecate
    it would be pointless to question timeless vitality

    Liked by 1 person

  36. periods of sobriety
    a principal character hides behind a mask
    extraordinarily prolonged silence on the stage
    huge color photographs of Elton John’s buttocks
    audience members argue over words spoken, unspoken
    ———————————————Placebo Town
    ———————————————Placebo Town
    no twin beds at the Honeymoon Hotel
    romance is fluid, each beholder different
    the Poet unapproachable to strangers
    the Poet increasingly suspicious

    Liked by 1 person

    1. “Art is made to disturb,
      science reassures”

      “There is only one valuable thing in art:
      the thing you cannot explain”

      “Reality only reveals itself when it
      is illuminated by a ray of poetry.”

      “Truth exists; only lies are invented.”

      ~Georges Braque

      Like

  37. limited detail
    in Placebo Town
    high school graduates
    are employed at erasing history
    mental excursions grow exhausted over time
    as cattle vanish, the Burger Joints have to relocate
    signs on the big highway, “NO MEAT—MOVE ON”
    on television, loops of meat packing factories
    hundreds of virus stricken workers
    oozing snot and slobber
    over torn hunks of flesh
    conveyer belt driven
    Karma has no mercy

    Liked by 1 person

    1. History is written
      by the insanely obsessed
      And printed upon
      that cum stain
      on Monica Lewinsky’s dress
      The Rosetta Stone
      of existential theology
      Newton’s third law of motion …
      “What goes up, must come down.”
      That infamous gown
      of Little Miss Demeanour
      who learnt the hard way
      not to linger
      on the outskirts
      of Placebo Town
      with the Head Dry Cleaner
      when his pinstriped pants
      are hitting the ground

      Like

      1. almost Christmas
        a man on each side
        ambulance sounds
        in their underpants
        party time narrative
        modern readers
        curious about the struggle
        faith in the truck stop romance
        no matter what
        not a single recoil
        cadavers deep in slumber
        praying for a good soaking
        cadavers deep in slumber
        excited by a strong breeze

        Liked by 1 person

    2. the poet was happy to tease
      but “put out” no way
      dating boys
      with a fancy welcoming
      magic-carpet speech
      offering a carnival ride
      octopus hands
      questioning
      where everything would go
      faster and faster
      promising
      sparks
      and
      explosion

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Nobody feels any pain
        Tonight as I stand inside the rain
        Ev’rybody knows
        That Baby’s got new clothes
        But lately I see her ribbons
        and her bows
        Hair fallen from her curls
        She takes just like a woman,
        yes, she does
        She makes love just like a woman,
        yes, she does
        And she aches just like a woman
        But she breaks just like a little girl
        Queen Mary

        She’s my friend
        Yes, I believe I’ll go see her again
        Nobody has to guess
        That Baby can’t be blessed
        Till she sees finally
        that she’s like all the rest
        With her fog, her amphetamine
        and her pearls
        She takes just like a woman, yes
        She makes love just like a woman,
        yes, she does
        And she aches just like a woman
        But she breaks just like a little girl

        It was raining from the first
        And I was dying there of thirst
        So I came in here
        And your long-time curse hurts
        But what’s worse
        Is this pain in here
        I can’t stay in here
        Ain’t it clear that
        I just can’t fit
        Yes, I believe it’s time for us to quit
        But when we meet again
        Introduced as friends
        Please don’t let on
        that you knew me
        when I was hungry
        and it was your world
        Ah, you fake just like a woman,
        yes, you do
        You make love just like a woman,
        yes, you do
        Then you ache just like a woman
        But you break just like a little girl

        ~ Bob Dylan

        Like

    1. “The secret of it all is to write in
      the gush, the throb, the flood of the
      moment.To put things down without
      deliberation, without worrying about
      their style, without waiting for a fit
      time or place. I always worked that
      way. I took the first scrap of paper,
      the first doorstep, the first desk, and
      wrote, wrote, wrote … By writing at
      the instant, the very heartbeat of life
      is caught.” ~ Walt Whitman

      Like

      1. Walt Whitman was good for a hand-job
        hips or lips never on the menu
        he was no Abe Lincoln
        Walt hid from Jesus
        he was taught the Adam and Eve
        the need for another child
        when it came time to plant the seeds:
        no shilly-shallying
        no mucking about

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Walt Whitman
        along with Ezra Pound
        and Ernest Hemingway
        all fought alongside us
        when finally
        we took Manhattan
        That brutal battle
        was a most bloody affray
        But Walt keep us going
        with his cries
        of “O Captain! My Captain!”
        As we all knelt to pray
        Soon the enemy
        they fell like leaves of grass
        And those Whitman’s chocolates
        so delicious
        kept us all sweet and strong
        The celebrations afterwards
        were delirious and long
        Jesús Rodríguez
        and the Sugar Man
        brought enough Jamaican rum
        for everyone
        A throng of Alien Nation patriots
        on a trip to Woodstock Farm
        with Carlos Santana and Janis Joplin
        All crazed and waltzing with Walt
        playing his violin
        and singing ‘Hey Jude’
        as the sun went down
        The Tambourine Man
        with a stone tablet in each hand
        then took to the stage declaring
        “Next Stop … Placebo Town!”

        Like

      1. Momma told me not to shack up with a woman
        who got horizontal with every man she met
        my teacher told me, “love is like a circus
        that leaves town without notice”
        abandoned without pockets
        a lazy hand, half a brain

        Liked by 1 person

  38. memorabilia brought up from the basement
    sexual athletics and cruel rug-burn
    I told myself that she was only
    having a temporary thaw
    her new husband
    with his nightly jabbing
    had increased the folds
    something that size
    required a complex
    physical dialogue

    Liked by 1 person

      1. in my small community
        they scraped the knees of every child
        on the stone tablets brought down the mountain
        no one could say that they were ignorant of Mister Moses
        I knew I was the New Covenant Moses and I wasn’t living right
        it was impossible for me to stay quiet, I confessed my identity
        at best the most holy Elders blew snot and threw punches
        I was wrong-headed and taken to the bus station to leave

        Liked by 1 person

    1. living the kind of life
      I’ve seen in a zombie movie
      a dozen zombie movies
      what the hell ?
      ————they took away my Robert Frost
      praying to God
      that the crowd outside can’t get in
      rolling my cigarettes
      like a factory machine
      talking to myself
      “going to get a little high, nothing serious”
      ————can’t find my personal lubricant
      now when I beat the meat
      the edges turn red and hurt

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I smile when I’m angry
        I cheat and I lie
        I do what I have to do
        To get by
        But I know what is wrong
        And I know what is right
        And I’d die for the truth
        In my secret life
        In my secret life

        Hold on, hold on, my brother
        My sister, hold on tight
        I finally got my orders
        I’ll be marching
        Through the morning
        Marching through the night
        Moving cross the borders
        Of my secret life

        Looked through the paper
        Makes you want to cry
        Nobody cares if the people
        Live or die
        And the dealer wants you thinking
        That it’s either black or white
        Thank God it’s not that simple
        In My Secret Life

        I bite my lip
        I buy what I’m told
        From the latest hit
        To the wisdom of old
        But I’m always alone
        And my heart is like ice
        And it’s crowded and cold
        In My Secret Life

        ~ Leonard Cohen

        Like

    2. the children were surprised to discover that everyone dead was on fire
      the flames were coated with seasick colors and the smell, Oh Lord
      priests were floating in boiling mud, their lungs like lifejackets
      I tried to feel sorry for them but sympathy wasn’t possible
      Satan said, “take a long look around and pick a spot”

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Satan
        may prowl around
        roaring like a hungry lion
        but much like
        a house broken pussy
        he needs permission
        to devour anyone
        and to do any smiting
        He once surfaced
        just behind
        where I was sitting
        as from a fiery furnace
        far underground
        somewhere south
        of Placebo Town
        He was looking
        for the naive initiate
        who’d just popped
        a Luciferian sacrament
        scored in Hell’s Kitchen
        I could sense that
        this most nefarious
        sly crazy cat
        oozing malignant puss
        wasn’t where it’s at
        He told me to scat
        as he was on the hunt
        for someone else to attack
        On a wing
        and a mother’s prayer
        I got out of there
        and never looked back
        Just to think
        this repulsive apparition
        was once an angel of light
        and by all accounts
        heavenly handsome
        Now so diabolically fugly!
        What the hell happened?

        Like

      2. (what the hell happened ?)

        contagion
        outdoor contagion came indoors
        Momma and Poppa found themselves facing
        wilfully arbitrary thoughts about killing the children
        selling the farm and moving near the Washington coast
        rent a mobile home in Forks and make friends with meth

        just trying to be free of metaphorical activity
        figurative language overly maddening
        journey out to Washington state
        tell poets and crying babies
        “shut the hell up”

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Civilisation coming
        To a crashing halt
        The waters rising
        Days as dark as night
        People disappearing
        Or simply dying of fright
        As time itself begins to melt
        The leaders have no answers
        Neither left nor the right
        The dead are asking questions
        The storm that rages
        Or the Rock of Ages?
        Whilst the living pray for light
        Poet priests are in hiding
        Or else taken to flight
        History unwinding
        Reality unravelling
        All creation dissolving
        Get set … and hold on tight

        Like

  39. get set…hold on tight
    Robert Frost
    walking among the trees
    treasuring their blossoms
    his mouth watering
    for future fruit
    over generosity
    from up above
    free from the nettles
    and brambles
    free from the flotsam
    that haunts nightly rest

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The birds they sang
      At the break of day
      Start again
      I heard them say
      Don’t dwell on what
      Has passed away
      Or what is yet to be
      Yeah the wars
      They will be fought again
      The holy dove
      She will be caught again
      Bought and sold
      And bought again
      The dove is never free
      Ring the bells
      that still can ring
      Forget your perfect offering
      There is a crack in everything
      That’s how the light gets in

      ~ Leonard Cohen

      Like

      1. THE TEASE OF THE DISEASE
        Edgar Allan Poe refusing to wear a mask
        grooving on the coughs and banalities
        funeral homes making a killing
        Bob Dylan with a new release
        singing kind of slow
        dreadful like

        Liked by 1 person

      2. CORONA MOST FOUL
        Mr. Big
        the Head Pig
        is trying to sell me
        a little white pill
        I think perhaps
        he’s flipped his wig?
        The Post Office lady
        wouldn’t hand over my parcel
        till the Union
        gets her danger money
        I told her …
        “Baby, you can’t buy safety!
        Best go work in a library.”
        She just gave me
        the longest stare
        Then took off
        her face mask
        and untied her Volvo hair
        saying … “Hey,
        let’s go all red Ferrari
        and isolate together?!
        May as well unlock
        my private postbox
        before that Chinese virus
        eventually gets me.”
        I finally got my package
        all ravaged and savaged
        after a turbulent delivery

        Like

  40. the librarian was proud
    of her horsehair sweater
    what manner of beast
    would relish her conquest ?
    she had plenty of friends
    characters on soaps
    and a guy
    from the spin-the-wheel
    nightly game show
    she sent him a get well card
    when he succumbed to
    intestinal tuberculosis (?)
    industrial pork worms (?)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. In Placebo Town
      They live face down
      Keeping a closed eye
      To the ground
      Where the pigs
      with their snouts
      In the trough
      Are fat and corrupt
      And where
      The pork worms
      All thrive
      Then they’re buried
      Standing up
      Dead or alive
      No rest in peace
      To be found
      In Placebo Town

      Like

  41. the storyteller in the alcohol
    who generates poetry
    about improbable things
    a town full of deathbeds
    the army stops fighting
    and returns
    to hold the hands
    of loved ones
    no pity in the poorhouse
    they ask to sleep outside

    Liked by 1 person

    1. pitfalls inherent in the life of a poet
      further sinning chuckles at roadblocks
      religious doubt cannot contain itself
      the laws of the Torah
      neglected
      Adam and Eve
      exhausted puppets
      behind the theater
      proof that one commandment violation
      equals the violation of them all

      Liked by 1 person

      1. “What I am saying is that as long as the
        heir is a child, he is no different from a
        slave, although he owns the whole estate.
        He is subject to guardians and trustees
        until the time set by his father. So also,
        when we were children, we were in slavery
        under the basic principles of the world.
        But when the time had fully come, God
        sent his Son, born of a woman, born under
        law, to redeem those under law, that we
        might receive the full rights of sons.
        Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit
        of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who
        calls out, “Abba … Father.”
        So you are no longer a slave, but a son;
        and since you are a son, God has made
        you also an heir.”

        “So, my brothers, you also died to the law
        through the body of Christ, that you might
        belong to another, to him who was raised
        from the dead, in order that we might bear
        fruit to God.
        For when we were controlled by the sinful
        nature, the sinful passions aroused by the
        law were at work in our bodies, so that we
        bore fruit for death.
        But now, by dying to what once bound us,
        we have been released from the law so
        that we serve in the new way of the Spirit,
        & not in the old way of the written code.”

        ~ Paul, the Apostle

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    1. I’ll lift up my arms
      to the starry skies
      And pray the fugitive’s prayer
      I’m guessing tomorrow
      the sun will rise
      I hope the final judgment’s fair
      The battle is over up in the hills
      And the mist is closing in
      Look at me, with all of my spoils
      What did I ever win?
      Gotta brand new suit
      and a brand new wife
      I can live on rice and beans
      Some people never worked a day
      in their life
      They don’t know what work
      even means
      Meet me at the bottom,
      don’t lag behind
      Bring me my boots and shoes
      You can hang back
      or fight your best on the front line
      Sing a little bit
      of these workingman’s blues

      ~ Bob Dylan

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