Song of the Nazi Flapjack

Frightened not only by everything
but by cats, dogs, days, by the sound of my own voice
and by the big O-sound of the 43rd infantry division girls
singing hot ass and cold
drinking beer
what ever happened?
what ever happened to
my ice cold whatever

and then
denounced
by the sound of my own memory
those thugs
Frightened by dead bugs.

dead bugs
we left them that way
and the O-sound by
paradise the cats play
days and hot nights

one dream lies in another
one word leaks into another
one idiot with a drip in his kitchen sink
however, I really like this font

(it was a don't ask, don't look policy
things that happened yesterday
things again will happen tomorrow
what's the big deal?)

bitch!

duped
duped
aces
deuces
joker's wild

one penny
you know
I cannot make up my mind
I ching
The Bible
secular humanism

Allah
Babba
Momma
bro snow
and yak, yak, yak
counter attack!

This is the song of the Nazi flapjack!

Tara my Anti-Christ

my anti-christ papers are a bit of no Structure work illusion
such is a stamp-collection

of no character (and not all who apply
to no such thing
lists) of lightnings
tulips
apples
and thunder numbers 9, 3 and 6

a sequence of female mathematics
a post mortem honorary degree like
flowers for the one I have loved and
played at the imaginary vampire
duck walk-cake or money show of
the Universal idea thing who

saves by building prim and proper
 and not a school government or cancer
I wish I were a librarian lord of the earth
so some day a string of data, books, desks, and lamps
could be all mine

So I wrote about this Tara-girl
and her name was: A Collection Accountant in Kitty Litters
She was Christian hippy and was
Sharply singing the praises of Obama and
Henry Kissinger, and Othello
In her bare feet--

I gave her some of
these machinepoems
which are just nature's way of statements
to the ordinary star system--or deep errors
in pocketbooks and modern houses selling
my anti-christ papers
She had me singing in circles

It could have been worse
Tara could have colored herself
 with blackness and French
stuff

Books of Universe Stuff

Ill mated matches
Metal marbles
Socks
And books of universe stuff
Hitler's Russian Winter of
Winter's poem of earths' yesterdays
Hung worldly and non-dissolute
mystic leather

Amber
She shells out the shucks
The bucks, the cake, the rack
Of her violence and of the disposition
Of vision and infant sacrifice
Such as those who practice

Infinite cataclysm
in a G-String

What happiness!
When her black
Ink drunk and ate
a
variety variously invited rain and thunder
highly noble and
is cosmopolitan
lurking and watching
Thru the slender diving sky
Which waters my eye

What happiness!
When yesterday's' deadly consumed
"Resonant Fugue"
So wanders this demon

She destroys with impunity and
Looking across the garden streets to
The City, to the palace, to the party, the
Greys, and the Whites, how I
Steady to see
Myself in her poetry steals
Pure terror
Black lightlessness and space

T.T. Specious
Indivisible

Humankind is a tool maker
Inventor,
Instructor  of
Tool manuals...

Beast
Beat no bells nor chimes out this
and/or capitalism
and

Rises and
Rips up them papers and diapers
depressed fathers act like
teenagers
which are not
and nothing better far closer
apprehension
Until there is nothing
nothing
nothing
nothing
at all
left but beer & tar

I celebrate
music
Kerry King
Slayer

The rise of death metal

Linguistics and morphology
Syntax and evolution
baby...

Ode to Meatwad

"You cannot swim in Carl's pool!"

You are made of meat
Will you drown?
Is the water red?

It cannot be blood
It must be chemicals
And pee

Absorbent and red
He rolls and dances around
("This is a good jam!")
Made of meat!
But sincere and sweet

Don't Mess with Meatwad!

Shake is a jerk
A regular ass
A freeloader for sure
On his favorite chair
At TV he will stare
All goddamn day

Frylock is the leader
Scientific and wise
That's no disguise!
He's got his computer
He can tell you your future
Like a Communist Spy

But meatwad it seems
Is so much neater
An awesome shapeshifter
And sometime shoplifter
Igloo, hot dog, Abraham Lincoln!
He can do it all!
With his great imagination
So creative
And made of meat!

Epilogue (well maybe not):

"Did you bring that baby
Babies don't belong here
Leave the seed out side
and run it over after the show!"

Wagonmaster of the Apocalypse, or Americans for the Management of Goyim

Lo, Goyim here; and I am so sorry to bubble burst, butt
this one fact: I wonder why we want to legalize sex now,
after all these handy christian self-love sessions when
The wife is back from shopping, and the browser
History is filled with holy...pornography

so many towel heads are lippy  (anyone
know, Gary?  And do you know, Gary?

And do you know, offhand "the Wagonmaster of the Apocalypse?"
but don't give me:  have a good day, or the usual abomination
Up her Leviticus--if you know what I mean,
and all that...whatever...) I am not a Lesbian,

Katie Couric, dead for three days on the cross-flowers
of her Palestinian Virgin--Rose again like a tornado
but Forest Rangers themselves are Happy Mothers
Like the Bible taken out of context
She has nothing to do with this story, Pappy

but you try to tell the liberal dribblers that, because
at least one was gay and the peter puffing fuck-hole
was living in Israel: Jehovah Pushing his Wife down the Stairs
(or anywhere you can throw a rabbit)

of Israel again or as you people sometimes call it--
The Infinite Cruelty Awareness Awards

join A.F.T.M.O.G.*** now and

"sign up for the Free Newsletter, 
and our silly Jerusalem Temple of rubble."

The Wagon Master of the Apocalypse is like butter
and will spit you out like a Jewish loan officer:
unless you drink these words, Jim Jones

and if anyone opposes--their accounts get the [delete]
 or the [censor comment-poem treatment]?
The Aliens are at hand!
on the threads with the Proud American Truth Tellers
or the threads about and not about:

Israel/abortion-quietly hushed up/spelled out,
 h-o-m-o-s-e-x-u-a-l-i-t-y

Jesus is Risen in Denver and Jackson, Mississippi!
and I bought a survival bunker, just in case
I am fallen from His Grace...

If this is so, please write your question
 in the form of a God.
And we will get back to you as soon as possible!  


***Americans For The Management Of Goyim


Readers Respond!

John:  Wow, those are some serious bath salts you are on!

Ronald Rothstein:  Anthony you need some serious help. I really pity you.

Jonny:  What the hell are you talking about?

Soltero-man: I don't know where you got what ever is you been smoking but I want some.

Truth In The USA:  huh! Kind of like Ginsburg, only really, really bad.

Poem-porn

And the dick eaters at the top of the fag tower
Had their way with the burning and beatings
That built up the war and banking industry
And they had a good time with bureaucracy
And hiring hookers and snorting cocaine.

Asking a mockery of Peace and Justice
Just like Plato said they would
In a perfect system of perfect bullshit
Where the average man is devoted to his 
Emotions and the emotions of his father.

There was now or not ever
A greater fire than the one
They toasted to the success
Of being a complete ass
And they toasted their success
To murder and dust.

His life was another dropout product 
 That paperwork produced, baby
 Om. Krishna--
Type of society, well,
What did you expect, lately?