Friday, December 31, 2010

When Revolution Comes

Be from
ed Right.

They'll know
Moderates gross
and waste them

wholesale. Left
enters then,
aligning its

algorithms and
reports. But fire
enough to force

a stalemate.

new government
of fringe roarers

combined with those
moderates not dead.

Acting president,
one thought

deceased before


Thursday, December 30, 2010

Rocco and Little Mikey the TV Director

Had hell of a time finding an astronomy broad not a dog.

Many icy nights and Tastycakes. Not the best for girth
and complexion.

Finally gave up and got an actress--to stretch a term.

Usually Science or National Geo for this sort of
spacey project. I think of your channel as two
quarter-wits belting each other inside a cage.
Or whores retreaded to serve mankind
without donating disease in the syrupy process.

Yeah, not our usual bag, but Wall Street uncles of the Ivies
who wrote the dreck are backing it.

So, can’t offend such children?

Must take the risk. Have retained about seventeen words
of the artzy-fartzies. I’ve fictionalized most, and the rest is
talking heads with a scientific bent. And, of course,
the necessary animation to give ideas of scale.

Yeah. (basso) NOW take our baseball pitcher throwing his curve from a barrio in Los Angeles to a catcher in gorgeous downtown Camden!

That’s about it. We gotta show there’s a lot of room up there.

Yes, it makes us seem so petty, except when we’re being petty.

I thought we were talking about me.

Of course. The industry runs on ego, which is a monster or a mouse depending on the possibility of work. Anyway, which sexy actress will rescue these out-of-this-world cliches?

Nessley Irdum.


You may know her as Peaches Flambé

Stripper most toney! Thus, most appropriate to high subjects.

Once you see the white jacket hanging from that balcony...!

Astronomers don’t wear white jackets!

Poetic license.

Ain’t science grand? Like totally fuckin grand?

Gonna be.


Little Mikey started in the business by interning on Channel 3’s
children’s shows. His initial task was to keep Uncle Wesley sober.

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Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Exhibit A

Those paid well
to whittle down
small people.

“They’re unemployed
because they’re lazy...

or clueless” etc. Carry-
ing water for the tru-
ly despicable.


Tuesday, December 28, 2010



We relish our "strange" friends
as they point up the bourgeois
absurdities. The accepted cliche then

is they marry and the babies come
and they become their timid parents.

But some stick to their humor anyway,
our beacons through a world
of cloying shit.

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Monday, December 27, 2010



No one calls rehearsals
you happen into, but do
you learn the roles later

defining you? Or know
you must step away
from type? Little of both.

Thus and so are
you comprised
and compromised.


Sunday, December 26, 2010


“Ride to the Ridge Where the West Commences

Gaze at the moon till I lose my senses.”*
Well, go ahead, or not. Didn’t Alan
Shepherd hit a golf shot up there midst

the Mother of Pathos and Pity?
With a football tie they say
it's like kissing your sister.

Well, the moon has been wrought in-
to your sister, but with less drama.

*Don’t Fence Me In


Saturday, December 25, 2010

My Christmas Story

Somehow my parents knew a family as poor
as we once had been.

Visited Christmas afternoon, after my tearing open innumerable gifts, including a tripod-mounted
machine gun which spat out sparks.

While the parents hoisted a few to the coming year,
I played with the boy. He had received two gifts,
toy cars, a blue and a red.

You must be a racer guy and I'm another racer guy who...
ran the script along with sound effects and real crashes.

Minor disagreements followed, but patched up
for the game's sake.

All in all, though, we got along, and when adult
conversation was finally ditched in order for
my parents to leave, I was still charged up from
the action with my new friend.

He tried giving me one of the cars, my choice.


Friday, December 24, 2010


The Rule of One

Missing my coat
in Florida. It’s

warming some recipient
of Northern Charity.
I need it back. O

I could bring a photo
to my favorite store
and they could uncover

a duplicate. But not
the particular coat.
Never, ever, the particular.

The Rule of Two

A cat occurs on my sofa,
just a wispy white cravat
breaking her midnight black.

Gather unto docile arms
and out the door. Upon my

immediately returning, she’s there
again. Or twin. Or something mystic.

I don’t speculate but just reprise action. What-
ever. There’s a Rule of Two in some removals.

If that’s broken, and she’s once more there,
the universe, itself, is massively adjusting.


Thursday, December 23, 2010


The Free Market

gives him a nine buck
toaster, Chinese,
for little toil.

Hammering him, thus,
into useful foil.


Wednesday, December 22, 2010


Necessary Historical Element

Beaming Hitler arrives
for routine ceremonial
in long, open limousine,

is extracted to assume
flowers from lively pretties.

Then subordinates
catapult out from it.

To asskissers,
every mission hot.

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Tuesday, December 21, 2010


Winning and “Grace”

My team pulls one out
we should have lost.

It's a miracle and so crush-
ing to the other club

whom we hate. How rich
to lord it over them,
gloating. So so easy and

decidedly so Un-Playing Fields of
Eton and other gentlemen's crap.

Thus a kind of short, social rap then,
giddy revolution of the impotent.

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Monday, December 20, 2010


Leslie Nielsen, Rest In Mirth

Paper in Brazil devotes entire front page, so
humanely appropriate for genius, instead
of down notches in Google’s news machine

below goings-on in harlotry, or
gaudy trade embracing Washington,

a burg tsunamied by vicious clowns
with freshly-engorged pockets.

Clueless onscreen, he saw his characters
through sly actor’s eyes, as did others
portraying knockabouts in Shakespeare,

or Peter Sellers dealing Strangelove
multiplicities. At bottom, we surely

must pose the serious question
distancing slapstick genres: When

authorities grow crazy and venomous-
ly scattered, what then? The homicidal
shove arrives from the Right just now.

It can reverse, and then the Left admonishes
“Do what you’re told, if you desire living
with your witty integrity.”

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Sunday, December 19, 2010


Fanfare For Uncommon Man

evolving in fits and starts
but nonetheless diminishing

the frequency of tragedy,
and of farce.


Saturday, December 18, 2010


Prima Ballerina Replies

The sour bubbles in the teeth,
the weak, sad, walking dream
with so much triste else. Worth it?

“What is Beauty worth?
You must answer for
it never will.”

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Friday, December 17, 2010


Wondering of the first caveman to say "Put it in writing!"

Extraordinary feat, since there is none.

So our two invent it: an arrangement of emblematic stones.

And since promises therein, they’ve devised, also, the future.

Not bad for such violent slobs.

But they're not done yet, at least one.

For he stumbles into the arrangement on a cold morning
and, instead of restoring things, likes the way it now looks,
favoring him--and reasons the gods want it that way.

And thus founds he modern life.

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Thursday, December 16, 2010


The Compromise

Today we trade
the tired brand
for a vile deal!

Amen! affirms
the virulent

Ours been talk

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Wednesday, December 15, 2010


Religious Music

The nun hides Mozart
crush. Mother being
pure Bebop, Dizzy

on a flash drive. Prayer-
ful works seem un-jived,
but one never knows.

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Tuesday, December 14, 2010


Miss Fogarty's Christmas Cake

A perennial feature
of the newspapers
around this season

holds fruitcake doesn’t
have to be anchor. True

in a small gourmet
percentage only, for
as the Irish sing, "Sure

‘twould kill a man twice
just to bite off a slice."


Monday, December 13, 2010



Both parties avow
looking out
for John Q

as they vote
to fuck him both etc.


Sunday, December 12, 2010


The Director and the Writer

-Jesus H. Christ falling off a bicycle! Full sized SUV under Christmas Tree, and then Mr Dickless Dude drives it through the house and out onto the roadway. Let’s pause a moment
to honor the true paucity of imagination exhibited here!

-I’m the writer exhibiting such. Can‘t you do it?
Is that the problem?

-Not in the least. Just a little electronic shrinkage necessary.

-Well, you’re the expert.



-Oh that was definitely in another country, and besides the wrench is bent.

-Shall we share a libation later?

-Not on your biography! The women have readmitted me.


Saturday, December 11, 2010


If bells turn to fish
do you get Chagall

or his life before? So, that
of antecedents too? We’re
all fetched back surreally as

our present gathers itself
like a coat.

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Friday, December 10, 2010



Evening AM radio hereabouts
infected by rightwing scolds.

Pitches get pinched between
prostate meds warranting stream

and flow: however furious, old
men pissing robustly. Uh huh?
And from mountebank heights.

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Thursday, December 09, 2010


Visa, MC, and Paypal
phalanx 'gainst them,

Corporate Pennant snap-
ping in the militant wind.

Ike served as general and
president. At acid last,
wry prophet.

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Wednesday, December 08, 2010


-Republicans have clarity. You know where they stand.

-Yeah, for the rich.

-Well it isn’t old Europe. We don’t hate them.

-Not yet.

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Tuesday, December 07, 2010


Right, Left, Center

No compromise!


Speeches nice. Sentiments likewise. But we have to run things.



Well, can’t be both. Now, why don’t you two just...?

Down in flames, rather!

In flames!

They’re throwing out the baby with the bath water!

They haven’t made the turn at the Twentieth Century,
let alone the Twenty First!

Mad experiments with everything. Tons of sex. Our money thrown at all of it!

They wanna come to my bedroom to watch. Disgusting voyeurs!

Fund the slacker bums!

Embrace the rich as they screw the rest of us!

See you around.

We doubt it!

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Monday, December 06, 2010

Campaign In Gear

-It's official! Squeaker, but we won!

-Well squeaker’s your fuckin fault. What the fuck
you been doing?

-Anti-incumbent fever. We hadda beat that!
But, let's celebrate now!

-Let's not. We start in the office tomorrow first thing!
And turning up the jets right away.

-Of course. What...?

-Well you dropped the queer hint into the last week.

-Might’ve been the edge.

-Possibly, but I want ten, twenty point margin next time!

-But, caution! Just still hints at first--we want him
picked again.

-Of course they'll pick him: he fuckin near beat me!

-I got you. We built up to a crescendo where he's
a flaming faggot by election time.

-I like those little cartoon-y ones where a dress
floats around and then lands on him, like.

-We can do that, of course, but, we don’t wanna
one-issue campaign!

-Who says? You gotta get more prick in you fast!
Like Karl Rove!

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Sunday, December 05, 2010


Cable Crawl

A man and a woman get thrown together shortly after a one-night stand.

Two men get...

Two women...

Two Martians...

Two dwarfs...

A dwarf and a giant...

Two bacteria...

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Saturday, December 04, 2010


Story Conference

-We gotta smooth out Rhomboid Roger’s life
for the Bible Belt. Now about that song,
“Who’re Y’Fuckin this Christmas?”

-Now it’s “Aesthetics of Tinsel.”

-Wow! Creative! Are you a fairy?

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Friday, December 03, 2010


Rocco and Packy the Painter

Yo Pack! Still working on those abstracts of abstracts? Beautiful to me. I’ll buy the one in Time.

Still available. That story supposed to make my career left me in the same unsalable rut.

But you hang in museums!

Does that make me well-hung?

I’ll check with your girlfriend.

Don’t bother. It’s her week not to speak to anybody.
Her PhD’s in Depression.

Christ! Does chaos make art, or art make chaos?

I don’t puzzle much out. Intellectualizing ices the
balls of painting.

At any non-sexual rate, presently working on–?

Complete 180. Photographic realism so acute it hurts.

Any subject I’d know? Twilight on St Monica’s?

Remember that waterside industrial ruin in
French Connection? Set up my easel there among
crap and shattered toilets and graffiti. Not to mention homeless turds with steam still rising.

Lovely! What’re you calling it?

The United States of America.

The artists, too, return to South Philadelphia.

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Thursday, December 02, 2010


Only after Bill to Shield Millionaires,
Will Repub Senators Pretend to Work

The hens,
all told

smug &

'll lay
no eggs

save gold.


Wednesday, December 01, 2010


-You'll recall we bent a few rules to get our Senator's retarded
nephew, Elmo, into Interior. Graduated from nothing.

-Dumbest sonofabitch ever to draw breath. Apt pupil,
thus, when homeschooled in Communist conspiracies
by mad parents.

-I thought we could forget him, being Interior’s problem now,
but oversight gombahs want to cut them fifteen percent.
Axing the new hires for a start.

-That's Senator Dressler, aka Trombone. You call him
and inform him of the magic circle around ole Elmo.

-He's making independent noises lately. What if he refuses?

-Then tell him we'll take away the one around him.

-Should I call The Secretary too?

-Don’t be ridiculous!


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