Passed Over

by the Ultramar in Madoc

 

No refund for the satisfaction cruelty bought.

No refund for the solitude honesty wrought.

 

The madman landed behind the Ultramar

on Seven. Seven, trafficked by sane men

who stare each other down at a hundred

and blink chicken. The madman once didn’t

something. Something to do with crap land,

to do with crooks, and likely someone close.

 

The madman had a dog once (says so on the signs:

Wrotten bread Killed my dog NO REFUND

Chinese plastic gravy have a nice day LOBLAWS),

must be alone. He doesn’t talk to people;

he talks at them. Whose bread I eat His song

I sing. I keep some Friends for entertainment.

 

Finally in this great, excellent year of 2016,

the madman has fit us Jews into his suffering.

Yankees fed jewish-nazi-like Powerful Propaganda.

The Jew owns the world. I relent: yes, it is true.

Some perfect nights, sugar on my finger,

honey on my tongue, I very much own the world

 

The whole world, with its Liberal politicians

and dead best friends, its stolen local elections

and lonesome men seeking private investment.

 

The Widow and the Virgin

The experts are divided: either Judith watches herself saw Holofernes or looks away. Either her maid stands behind her with a bag or sits astirde the general’s chest. Either he grits his teeth or screams unfair. Either way she bed him and behead him. Either way the Jews do not on paper claim her, content with Esther; Esther who demonstrates you may change a man.

Dick move

After David Currie

The turkey vulture is the only animal that apologizes for its mean comments. The turkey vulture survives by hounding other birds off their nests, not so they may eat their unborn young or fledglings but so the turkey vulture may feel it has done something with its day. It apologizes so it may feel it was brought up right.

HEARTBROKE

 

you woke in the dark with the whole poem wrote

use your phone to notify your folk you found gold

THESE WORDS IMMORTALIZE OUR LOST IDOL

your folk alert theirs & soon everyone is awoke

audiences moss the planet—it glows!

all publishers abjure ownership & on every shelf

YOUR WORDS IMMORTALIZE OUR LOST IDOL

unto ouroboros, publisher & audience blur

Earth hums by mourning unto unity’s verge

near summoning Messiah’s arrival

OUR WORDS IMMORTALIZE THE LOST IDOL

& you are selfless, the viral ode’s origin

multitudinous, from all us, all at once

& as Earth’s turn exhausts,

our hearts slow & we dream

we dream no one

needs

immortality.

 

Having completed the development quiz on my first sober 4:20 in 13 years

 

Doctor I was mistaken

my son is looking for a hidden toy.

His head dug in a bin while I clear the room,

he has no interest in tumbling from the chesterfield.

 

There was no question whether he claps and though

he’s yet to stack he does (this is new!) tenderly

put things aside. Doctor,

does this matter?

 

I must end here—

he has the xylophone’s baton

and may choke and die any moment.