
With more skat
than a stray cat
can poke his eyeballs at
the punk
in the Midnight Choir
starts to twist and shout
Yet …
the All in All
all too beautiful
for even a bird on a wire
to sing about
Like that
concert hall in Vienna
where your lips
were so warm and wet
Getting a feel
of the real deal
… that love thing
Upon a mission
a royal commission
seeking foremost
the rock solid Kingdom
It all starts from within
Seizing the living moment
Best be in it
to win
And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song
To find truth
without love
or at least a trace
of faith and hope
like trying to climb
the highest peak
of Mount Everest
naked
without oxygen
or even a rope
Not saying it can’t be done
but man …
sounding much like
a clanging gong
in the Temple
of a world gone wrong
Or have I found
that love thing?
From the mire
of the dire basement
that we’re standing in
try as you might
to sight the heavens
across the endless skies
Far better
in the light
seeing the world
through heaven’s eyes
Heart and Soulful
Holy Mindfulness
is the rightful place
where we all belong
And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song
I too
have tried
in my way
to be free
If it be your will
then let it be
Yet
here on earth
they sentenced me
to forty years of mayhem
for spying
the celebrants
of sin
Tell me
where does
this world end
and the next begin?
Because
I don’t like your
toxic culture mister
And I don’t like
the choir
you’re singing in
I don’t like Big Brother’s
twisted little sister
The King
of everything
He’s coming back
He’s coming to reward them
The King of hearts
and minds
the Prince of Peace
returning
But first
we seek the Kingdom
Then let freedom ring
And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song
I’ve been buried
and I’ve been dug up
I call it grace amazing
You called it dumb luck
And thank you
for those items
that you sent me
The stone monkey
and the ink
under my skin
I’ve tunnelled
towards the light
and now I’m ready
First
we occupy the Kingdom
then
let the revolution begin
Yes … Jesus was a sailor
when he walked upon the water
Seeking the lost at sea
and the drowning
The stranger
the gambler
and me
And Leonard Cohen
he’s sailing on
to the Tower of Song
Through all
the rise and fall
the pulp fiction
from hell’s kitchen
I really like
to walk
that tightrope, baby
I really like
to hear
those Sirens sing
But to see that nightmare
of deception
prowling through creation
Jesus told us
yes he told us
Kingdom starts with
Remember me?
I use to to live
without rhyme or reason
Remember me?
I plugged your Hi-Fi in
You loved me as a loser
You’d hate
to ever see me win
With Christ Jesus
my ship has finally
come in
No longer tied
to a kitchen chair
With a Glory
and a broken Hallelujah!
But first
we take the Kingdom
Losing it all to win
And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song
I’m counselled
by a whisper
from the heavens
Once I was blinded
by visions in a spin
Now it’s …
So long Chicken Maryland
That frozen turkey
who nearly did me in
For now I’m guided
by the beauty of creation
and a thirst
for the Kingdom
where I first heard
those angels sing
Jesus told us
yes he told us
Kingdom begins within
And Leonard Cohen
he’s singing along
from the Tower of Song
~ by David B. Redpath © 2017-20
Artwork;
‘La Musica Sacra’
~ by Luigi Mussini
Photography:
David B. Redpath © 2017-20

people don’t openly speak of such things
but under the mask of normality
Jacqueline was demon occupied
dirty double-crossing men
sodomy with an opera girl
movie stars on the side
poor little Jacqueline
even with new skin
you could smell
a hint of Hades
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she refused to speak
of her younger years
a time before Polaroids
pictures cut from magazines
men in prison touched themselves
fingering every inch of her blueprints
she was going to be the Queen of America
a line of people waiting to take the title away
the constant sound of a ticking clock in Texas
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outside, dead people blew around like fallen leaves
if they were words, the positions of their relationship
would have drawn Robert Frost up from his lengthy nod
dead people catalogued but not collected
waiting to touch down on the other side
the clock hands in slow mode
time spoken in one direction
already homesickness
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lazybones
who don’t take time
to arrange their words
they spit out PC politeness
they sign everything with authenticity
like mayors and addicts of pretense
Jackie with her mania for deception
her make-believe interest in others
her roundabout personality
walking through the pages
of novels she has read
her male torment
underground
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the pilot of the drugs
was experiencing abstract dialogue
light and shadow was being beaten
as if by Keith Moon
what were the prerequisites ?
sleight of hand sex
performed in slow motion
rock stars with no frames
to insulate them
rock stars
that had almost nothing to share
no daily increments of information
a narrative on a gum wrapper
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The biographical details
of a working class drummer
written on the back
of a bubblegum wrapper
Full of drunken
and coked up exploits
As a private psychopath
and a Red Brigade operative
I keep all mine secret
Nobody needs to know
that a celebrity serial killer
is living amongst us
With friends in high places
such as Pete Townsend
and Roger Daltrey
WHO had very deep pockets
when it came to solving
their Keith Moon problem
That Rock ‘n’ Roll clown
was asking to be put down
Behaving like a spoil child
always throwing a tantrum
No angel born in hell
was prepared to protect
his big bass drum
when it came time
to clang his last cymbal
Out of respect
I kept beat at his funeral
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yes, ideas were chewed over
and occasionally digested
but in reality, it was the DRUGS
heated discussions with the backroom
drug mitzvahs as they were called
narcotic entrepreneurs as babysitters
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I placed a check mark in the box
AN INDEFINITE NEED TO TRANSCEND MYSELF
I was the Other of Jackie
dominated by Jackie
her roots growing in my soil
yes, I was struggling
a plural Michael
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the weightiness of being alive
the doctors with their determination
destroyed my contact down below
now going for my head
the deconstruction of Michael
my vocabulary
my psychization
all those images on the floor
the dead people outside in the breeze
relatives and loved ones
total strangers
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Life in a spiral
The art of being
… multiple
The flesh
tends to descend
a labyrinth of survival
The spirit yearning
longing to transcend
Keeping body
and soul together
is a daily miracle
The body but a temple
Just a dwelling temporal
The soul ever seeking
The Spirit revealing
In Christ there is healing
like a true love revival
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readers employ agents to guide them
in their interpretation
the gloss is there
covering
reality
the story is one thing
Moses and the hard heart
the rumored heart of stone
Moses with a thousand Michaels
Michaels with a veil over their faces
Michaels with the veils removed
unbelieving minds pass by
blinded by false light
walking towards
the edge
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Moses with his tablets written on the hearts of unbelievers
the truth is the truth, believers and unbelievers alike
interpretive blindness seems the national sport
the veiling of Moses, the veiling of Michael
anti-romance floating in the air
the charm of death invisible
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the nurse said today might be the last one
crows were outside waiting for my walk
a bad habit
giving them dollar bills and telling them
to get laid
outside
the nurses were inept
at responding to the circumstances of life
captive not of love
but the bonds of love
captive of fear
both genders
I pay them extra
to drive fast
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they try to slip me the androgynous pill
but I know the taste and I spit it out
no matter how small
God says spit it out
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I think they gave me extra today
possibly my last day
the string around
my gourd seems
tight
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Liz Taylor with her tone of annoyance
feeling entangled in her husband hooks
barely tolerable, the size of the boy cage
everyone running about with warm blood
Liz with paws and claws
a movie star bark
ego escapades
conjugal
and then an agent with scissors
prepares to cut the path of narration
words speak inside your head, insinuations
“please don’t cut me off today, cut me tomorrow”
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lined up for a morning meal
what would I like ?
knowing full well
that I wanted nothing strangled
no suction cups or mystery teeth
what would I like?
to stand up
and float
to be free of any impressionistic mixture
of the actual and the symbolic
to be one less Michael
in the morning line
of human blanks
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the crossroads are open
but the gate is heavily guarded
the endpoint of death in odd fog
once your flesh is removed
you are no longer naked
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the death world full of machinery
yes, there are flaws and wounds
replicas suffer abuse
memories erased
METAL CIRCUMCISION
the common theme
violence to mark
male identity
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today at the reformer meeting
I was asked if the Antichrist
was present
I nodded
little did they know
the Antichrist had his tongue in my ear
the distant past playing like a movie in my mind
when people lived outdoors and traveled with the seasons
long before the Bible and the reform of the Church
long before men cut off their clay feet
and journeyed up to outer space
the question of the day
God’s emissary
on earth ?
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old people in need of revitalization
some proud of their upright life
revolutionaries silent
knowing full well
demons leap over the wall
husbands and wives gone wrong
babies thrown in the dark raging waters
the skin of humans can easily be obtained
the wardrobe of Satan never out of date
a happy face, a generous gift
no gnashing with open mouth
Eve and her sisters will dart about
offering breasts and hairless crotch
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several poets asked me today
why the dragon
of the waters
of Chaos
was a female
and the immediate answer
was that all matter was born
from her defeated body
was she loved to death
by the Rolling Stones ?
the hungry lips
of Mick Jagger
a single Michael
in a world of Michaels
Grandfather of Perversity
to think of him as a front man
a simple rooty-toot from the stage
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The Tutti Frutti Englishman
from that movie ‘Performance’
dancing like a rainbow serpent
Invoking the gods of fornication
with his slithering satin pants
White man blues
Stolen black rhythm
Groping for a practice session
of groupie romance
Chaos is the fevered infection
of creation
The secret ingredient
of a swirling universe
Mainlined into a blue vein
A swiss cheese black hole vortex
The music of the spheres
and the Rolling Stones
would disappear without it
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talk about a dragon that resides by the waters of Chaos
talk about a female dragon that in death
becomes the building matter of everything
God knows not corporeal substance
nor corporeal shape
electric fire
white inside white
seal up each and everyone
seal up the seams
say, “Thanks”
from your insides
that extra special place
where what you know is not spoken
you know more than you know
you know what you know
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PINK FLOYD: AMUSED THEMSELVES TO DEATH
they were a happy lot
and then it seems
they amused themselves
to the point of death
the wife said that she had an itch
she stood on the street corner
and men gave her their best
night after night
down there was swollen
and bright red
it was a bad case of the itch
baby jelly on the floor
baby jelly on the commode
I tried to think not
if it was animal
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in the face of the storm
I was concerned with the Incarnation of the Word
that everything holy could be squeezed out
squeezed out to the last dab and discarded
each thought with its center of rationality
subject to analytic devils ready to repair
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there is no difficult question of originality
splendidly perverse poets who populate
pool halls and truck stops and color
sodomy with historical grounding
black market precursors
that offer entrance
without aftertaste
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Adam died with Eve
sadly, others pass alone
Robert Frost reaching out
his little hand warm to touch
I wanted to absolve him of all blame
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I first saw Robert Frost
there on the safe shore
dressed in Autumn
ready to rouse
manly socks
and crazy locks of hair
Lord have mercy, Robert
(@) thoughts fallen, thoughts gathered
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“Confront the dark
parts of yourself,
and work to banish them
with illumination
and forgiveness.
Your willingness to wrestle
with your demons will cause
your angels to sing.”
~ August Wilson
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I was minding
my own business
social distancing
a safe injecting room
in Amsterdam
when
Slam Bam Wham!
Not Batman
but Robert Frost
appeared
in a surgical face mask
saying . . .
“Try this drug not taken.
It’s a blast 💥!”
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WORDS
interior dialogue
of a divided mind
agents trying to measure
the distance between Michaels
Michaels sandwiched between now and then
ancient Michaels wearing Babel Tower trousers
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family members with their hollowed emptiness
sounds likened to that of diseased lungs
each face foreign to the other
negative things are said
Adam died with Eve
others pass alone
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restless geography with weak gravity
Satan there under the feet of Christ
the letter of the law
replaced
done away with
(@) there are those on the safe shore
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I have no idea where the purities
and impurities are distilled
the origin of language
perhaps in Eden
the alphabets
of Eve
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“Before you were born,
and were still too tiny
for The human eye to see,
You won the race for life.
Your strength,
when your very existence
Is proof of your greatness.
You were born a winner, a warrior.
Why do you even doubt victory
against smaller numbers,
and wider margins?
From among 250 million competitors.
And yet,
how fast you have forgotten.”
~Suzy Kassem
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spontaneously recognizable
the single card from the deck
a name never spoken
visible in small print
situated in wickedness
active in prostitution
once escaped and returned
like a Bob Dylan lyric
restless eyes sing
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before one enters the state of Florida
one encounters the border patrol
and their odd Sphinx riddles
“are you sick or ever been ?”
of course you say, “never”
“never, never, never”
although
there’s blood
in your underpants
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“The only people who see
the whole picture are the ones
who step out of the frame.”
~Salman Rushdie
“Lies written in ink can never
disguise facts written in blood.”
~ Lu Xun
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At the border
of Placebo Town
the only effective PPE
is to be quick on the draw
with a trusty six-shooter
and to never let your guard down
In a town
where no one can breathe
They say
it is far better to give
than receive
And that goes double
when dealing from a deck
infected with Chinese viral trouble
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there was a week of blood
soaked into the car seat
comments were made
the rental clerk
was crazy mad
it was a setback
just a simple setback
inhabitants on spinning
planets overhead would chuckle
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Dream World
the premier theme park
of Placebo Town
has been shut down
and declared a crime scene
Four thrill seeking citizens
were decapitated
and seven more drowned
on the River Rapids Ride
as their boat capsized
and crashed to the ground
The ride operator
an illegal minor
and the park manager
are yet to be found
Such a pity
as Dream World
has never been so popular
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DREAM WORLD OF PLACEBO TOWN
every accident has a motivating force
The River Rapids Ride
fascination and fulfillment
in the same phallic log
the accident occurred
at the climax
of the “Honeymoon Plunge”
———————
Dream World Brothel
5 star voyeurism
you can watch yourself
watching others
fleshless skeletons on request
sophisticated Playboy bunnies
voyeurism
one must be tough and selfish
tough is difficult
selfish, another story
repetition
circled each day
on the calendar
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Wet ‘n’ Wild 💦
is just across the road
from Dream World.
Don’t forget to bring a towel.
There’s a network
of underground tunnels
that interconnect 5 star hotels,
shopping malls, cinemas,
and launchpads for space launches.
Intercontinental nuclear missiles
are stored there,
but behind closed doors.
The frozen head of Walt Disney
overseas it all.
A guided tour of his
cryogenic chamber
is to die for.
If you play your cards right
you’ll get a visit from Snow White,
Walt’s personal dominatrix
and Neo Nazi whore.
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DREAM WORLD OF PLACEBO TOWN
sometimes I take a nap on Mount Sinai
exposing my navel for a umbilical moment
dreaming of re-encoding the letters
of the common word for intercourse
human intercourse
the woven threads of flesh
(@) the powerful battering ram against the fortress
the world is full of underground tunnels
brothels and truck stops galore
human amusement parks
the size and variety limitless
Dream World has Mount Sinai
representational Mount Sinai
unapologetic Mount Sinai
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self-imposed punishment
one line for Hades
another for Dream World
an endless fiery torture
or a day spent in bliss
no known admission
for those desiring
A NEW MEASURE OF MORALITY
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Riding
the Ghost Train
is a must ride
when visiting Dream World
Just follow the big Exit sign
“Work Will Set You Free”
A ton of fun is guaranteed
as you become
a functioning happy citizen
and then
a fading distant memory
Just leave the kiddies
on the Merry-Go-Round
They’ll be well cared for
at the Dream World
Lost and Found
There’s always more
where they came from
That breeding ground
endlessly feeding
the hungry factories
of Placebo Town
For a mild ride
you may just survive
stay anesthetised
and never ever
make a sound
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——CREATIVE ACTS WANTED——
creative acts far more than procreative
a touch of tenderness
lip service (mutually exclusive)
to locate a human with a basic personality
an animal tamed and taught to remain so
yes, movies are made about people
who have taken a dash to the wilds
lingering adolescent expressions
for the hero with the large widdler
out of that knot what loose ends
narcotic dare-devilry
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“Courage is found in unlikely places.”
~ J.R.R. Tolkien
“Sometimes even to live
is an act of courage.”
~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca
“Success is not final,
failure is not fatal:
it is the courage
to continue that counts.”
~ Winston S. Churchill
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A Master Class in Polical Correctness;
Gold Coast slave ship
bound for cotton fields
Sold in the market
down in New Orleans
Scarred old slaver
knows he’s doin’ all right
Hear him whip the women
just around midnight
Brown Sugar,
how come you taste so good?
Brown Sugar,
just like a young girl should?
Drums beatin’ cold,
English blood runs hot
Lady of the house
wonderin’ when it’s gonna stop
House boy knows
that he’s doin’ all right
You should have heard him
just around midnight
Brown Sugar,
how come you taste so good
Brown Sugar,
just like a young girl should
I bet your mama
was a Cajun Queen,
And all her boyfriends
were sweet sixteen
I’m no school boy
but I know what I like
You should have heard them
just around midnight
Brown Sugar,
how come you dance so good
Brown Sugar,
just like a black girl should
~ Keith Richards/Mick Jagger
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spent three hours in the crying room today
leaving so much of myself behind
endless scenes of romance failed
the count of near marital misses
leftover pet scents
pig ears and buffalo bones
memories detrimental to life
wild creatures stuffed into meatloaf
intellectual beings victim to elephant guns
—–(evangelical elephant guns)—–
feelings cultivated on military cots
rest stops on the turnpike
automobile backseats
biblical accounts
of a more vital life
spiritual happiness
with lazy corpse lovers
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“Even in times of trauma, we try to maintain a sense of normality until
we no longer can. That, my friends,
is called surviving. Not healing.
But those of us who have made it
thru hell and are still standing?
We bare a different name: Warriors.”
~Lori Goodwin
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somebody said that Jesus was smoking a cigarette
that he had a luminous olive complexion
a man with a hazardous undertaking
a hundred million yesterdays
partners with the up above
container and contained
(@) towel boy in the crying room
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Rumours are
the smoking gun
of an idle tongue
Every day
a new conspiracy
under a setting sun
Earthquakes
storms and floods
The next world war
has just begun
Loose are the lips
upon sinking ships
A massive explosion
in the port of Lebanon
Some nations
are truly cursed
Signs in the heavens
Signs upon the earth
The sounds of destruction
The pangs of new birth
A virus has halted
the summer harvest
But Wall Street
couldn’t care less
Globalised starvation
is good for business
As armies assemble
for the final battle
even the strongest
will weep and tremble
Humanity on the run
Many will remember
the words of Jesus
and pray night and day
for Kingdom Come
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Jesus in the wilderness
fasting forty days slowly
The devil rides up
on his pale horse
silver spurs and a black hat
… of course
looking kinda hornery
saying
“Come to where
the flavour is.
Come rule and reign
with me
in Marlboro Country.
My posse of fallen angels
could also do with a saviour.
Come and be like me,
a rootin’ tootin’
fast shootin’ outlaw.
No need for a crucifixion.
I can give you the crown
of Placebo Town.
After all,
it’s been mine all along,”
Jesus just sighed
and said
“Get behind me, Satan.”
For that smokin’ cowboy
was lower than
a rattlesnake’s belly
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(@) the towel boy for the crying room
constructed minute by minute
from original as well as borrowed
reworked by the grades of schooling
images accumulated over a long period of time
Arabic penis, Persian penis, thin Turkish penis
every penis = the promise of sexual impropriety
male poet = priapic automaton
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can you imagine being a zoologist in Placebo Town ?
claws and teeth, Baby
second-guess death
everything one cuts open
is cheese
(first thought) the moon
school papers about dangerous circumstances
school papers about crucial social situations
shamans from big rigs at the truck stop
nothing better than contortions
breasts that don’t need to be shaved
yes, predators have grown lame
and cannot journey outside
relax, Baby
no more boy scouts
rough stuff not so much
the fake religious folk have splintered
come winter they will be valuable
simultaneously loving everyone
spousal love and additive drugs
being loved and feeling safe
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White middle class
evangelicals
and Southern Confederate
bible belters
dealing in guilt and blame
Upholding the tribal agenda
Stalking the sick
and the lame
Following the leader
of a selfish power game
as the Martyrs
of the Cross
turn their heads in shame
at those self-righteous bigots
who walk in the flesh
Caring nothing
for the downtrodden
the homeless
widows and orphans
whilst professing a stagnant
kind of lifeless
brand of holiness
Instead of getting with it
in the true spirit
In the end
love is all that matters
Only the loving best
will remain
as everything less
will one day
be washed down the drain
Jesus is God’s Big Forgiveness
Get on board
that freedom train
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Placebo Town
I saw a St. Teresa of Avila relic
in a local truck stop chapel
I prayed for constructive irrationality
safeguards against fickleness of mind
in my prayers I could leap from the bed
didn’t need no stinking map of Ohio
never going there anyway
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I kept my roadmap
of London close
and a bus timetable
for Buckingham Palace
even closer
during an excursion
seeking the lost Desiderata
after the eruption
of Mount Sinbong
on the island of Sumatra
I saw a statue
being erected
commemorating
the first ever penis
to climb Mount Everest
I had no choice
but to demolish it
when pagan women
from the East
come to worship it
After all
that mountain climbing penis
was just another
shameless exhibitionist
Now laid to rest
in Itchycoo Park
where a swamp tourist
was hand feeding
the bottom feeders
when the monsoon struck
He hasn’t been seen since
Neither has Koo Stark
Meanwhile
Prince Andrew’s penis
held a press conference
claiming innocence
and announcing that 2020
was his very worst
Annus Horribilis
since Jeffrey Epstein
had been pollarded
and then redacted
for abusing a nursery rhyme
The Prince’s pants
were down at the time
but nobody noticed
as a face mask
covered up his
flacid penis
The assembled press
all sensing
a contagious crime
kept a social distance
for King Boris
having survived
the Euro Virus
was self isolating
whilst nursing his groin
in a disused warehouse
on the abandoned
waterfront docks
of Placebo Town
The sailors played
the congregation prayed
as that last ship came in
What was lost
at great cost
would soon be found
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the hairy ape in existence
from toddler to raunchiness
pleasure as a solitary pursuit
mathematical strokes by hand
dong in desperate need of petunia
——————
the beasts in the enclosure
bodies in opposition to the heart
apart from the sense of the words
shining the light on what is known
—-“the monogram of flesh”—-
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just think
the first penis to climb
to the top of Mt. Everest
—-(very compact)—-
perhaps hiding behind a prayer shawl
back at the village
blessings
were heaped upon him
the thorns were trimmed back
the Pillar of Glory standing proud
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The angle of ascent
was most precarious as
Baron Penis Von Battenberg
continued his assault
on the majestic
and yet unconquered
Mount Everest
His two faithful retainers
both bold and gregarious
were cajoling the Sherpas
with stories most courageous
of their Zulu War exploits
Even their pet Yeti
Fu Manchew
was betting
they wouldn’t make it
The Wicked Witch of the West
had financed the Everest Assault
expecting a climactic result
just as she was buried
under an avalanche of rock salt
courtesy
of the Winchester Brothers
Sam and Dean
Dorothy was left dazed
but unfazed
like a sweet sixteen
Judy Garland
as she took the Baron
by the gland
saying …
“There’s no place
like my virgina.
The Scarecrow has gone
and lost all his stuffing,
the Tin Man needs oiling,
and that Cowardly Lion
wouldn’t even throw me a bone.
So let’s get the best
of Mount Everest
and drive this thing home!”
Fu Manchew the Yeti
was later heard howling
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was it the angle of ascent ?
———————was it the angle of ascent ?
the snap of the lumbar ganglion
turds over the shoulder
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Abraham ordered
the chain gang
to slow down
as he descended
Mount Zion
in the Memphis rain
completely delirious
yet totally sane
With no sign of frown
his face was all aglow
Except for
the stove pipe hat
that covered his brain
He had seen the future
and it was Placebo Town
causing his mind
to be blown
Nothing ever again
would be the same
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at any truck stop in America
Judy Garland
just another piece of candy
the cast of “Wizard of Oz”
they are there in spades
reality concealed at best
practiced smiles
smooth talk
tit for tat
no one
escapes
painfully clear
hindsight at the hospital
provocative closing images
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The Wizard of Oz
did his intership
on Groucho’s casting couch
Placebo Town was all abuzz
when Judy popped her cherry
upon the horn of Harpo Marx
As Dorothy blew like a tornado
the Wicked Witch of the East
gave an hysterical laugh
For a climactic finish
with only a broom handle
to scratch her itch
that silly witch was crushed
by Dorothy’s falling house
As Harpo didn’t say a word
Dorothy and Toto
got on with the show
and hit that Yellow Brick Road
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it was difficult to ignore the putrid routines
of the folks at the base camp
they had no sanitary arrangements
pack animals dropping turds
or so it seemed
the high fat diet produced a soft flow
that floated when it rained
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“Shit happens!
Onwards and upwards.”
the intrepid Baron
was heard to shout
to his Sherpas
as they reached for
that most lofty
mountain summit
after enduring
a frightful blizzard
Soon the clouds
began to part
and the Himalayan sun
hit the expedition
with a golden burst
The fearless Baron
forged ahead
insisting that he be first
His two trusty retainers
slow and steady
were hanging by a rope
“Don’t ascend too quickly
for goodness sake!
You’ll be too short of breath
to make it to the top.”
Baron Penis advised firmly
They always followed
his lead
for the Baron knew well
from bitter experience
just how to succeed
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I’m not saying that it was a skip and a jump to the top
people like Abraham Lincoln
talked the entire way up
descriptions of his father’s farm
the countryside
I was hoping that he would talk
about the girls that he had fingered
but all he talked about was boys
(fact check) they were just keeping warm
up near the top I started to get nervous
Abe had on a sweater and it was getting cold
——ABRAHAM LINCOLN——
limited only by the degrees of temperature
his thermometer registered
on top of Mt. Everest
Abe was a chubby penis
with an immense brain
never knowing his number
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—- two troublesome thoughts about Abraham Lincoln—-
(+) Abe never had the chance to listen to “Pink Floyd”
(+) Abe couldn’t find Mt. Everest on a map of the world
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A bullet to the brain
will do that to a man 🤕
Having never listened to Pink Floyd,
Bob Dylan, or even KISS
Having never scaled to the summit
of Mount Everest
Yet Abraham believed God
and it was credited to him
as righteousness 👍
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Merino wool
thermal underwear
has saved this
particular mountaineer
from a world of pain and despair
Fu Manchew the Yeti
took it rather personally
that I didn’t use him
as a hot water bottle
Him being so big and hairy
The real problem is
Yetis tend to be
horrendously smelly
and are known to get
ferociously randy
My advice is
if you plan
to make it back down
from the precipice in one piece
don’t sleep with a flea bitten Yeti
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I’m not saying that it was a skip and a jump to the top
people like Abraham Lincoln
wanted to exercise
their use of
language
Abe said that he was not a homosexual
yes, he had sex with men but it was just to keep warm
perhaps he was climbing down the ladder rather than up
Abe was the only living person I ever saw who could
reach inside himself and massage his soul
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He did tell Pharaoh
how to behave
in polite company
as he declared …
“Let my people go!
Picking cotton is rotten
and building pyramids
is just miserable.”
No longer a slave to the rhythm
No longer walking like an Egyptian
to the tune of a Broadway musical
Old Abe as always
had to be the star of the show
even sitting in the audience
Now he’s in the grave
under a mountain of snow
dreaming of cruising
up and down the Blue Nile
whilst chasing the dragon
nice and slow
Watching them
Nubian dancing girls
all in a row
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something about the frozen landscape
encouraged Abe to think about lesbianism
he asked me more than a dozen times
what I knew about female on female
I told him that I knew very little
I could barely spell the word
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Anne
my good friend
taught me
everything I know
about Photography
the Civil War
and Abraham Lincoln
She much preferred
to instruct other girls
but for me
she made an exception
Anne dressed like a girl
yet talked like a man
A fiend in the bedroom
with no quarter taken
nor given
A fulsome education
without sentiment
or obligation
I have fond memories
of my good friend
Anne
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if one reads the history books
one knows that Abe
liked to keep a military man
in his bed
bleak and turbulent weather
gonna have some fun
Abe on top
Abe on bottom
two blankets sewn together
wasn’t enough
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holding hands with Abraham
somewhere on Mt. Everest
at night under the stars
he was very curious
if I had a blemish
or birthmark down below
A MAN FROM THE NORTH
A MAN FROM THE SOUTH
late at night with Lincoln
wanting a discharge
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That very wicked
Witch of the East
got buried in an avalanche
soon after
Baron Penis Von Battenberg
had removed his pants
She tried her best
to accommodate him
but that silly witch
wasn’t expecting
such a mountainous beast
The sherpas still talk in awe
of the entire incident
During the ensuing melee
Dorothy had been quietly
slipped a roofie
and was slightly dazed
The Cowardly Lion
feigned innocence
Yet we were all amazed
when Liza Minnelli
and Fu Manchew the Yeti
momentarily burst out
of Dorothy’s ovaries
snorting a chorus line
and singing . . .
🎶There’s No Business
Like Snow Business 🎶
Sadly . . .
after such an experience
Toto had to be put down
at the insistence
of the Head Librarian
of Placebo Town
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