The streets have felt much of the century
arch of sky all art & activity
There are bread lines in the streets
Quotations like robbers sink
who leap out armed
who aim to not only have the most
who encased in the core of a shell
who loved their metonymic body-parts (teeth, signatures)
who help me understand all those love songs and how the artists
must have felt when writing them
*
I feel I say a drink might help
For sale unheard of animals their cries
towers fired upon simultaneously
Future prospects smaller than today
after the feast of flying bricks
We recommend a midnight train
a Garry Oak on southern Vancouver Island.
*
the beginning of the impossible is here
its phantom limbs and silver flanges
the goods the mob captures
A collection of obsessions, oblique references and footnotes
Keep munching until all the animal is gone
*
It will be the same
They will be unfit for further service
Rabble
Thus did it happen
I saw it
Cruel tale of woe
Unhappy mother
They do not arrive on time
What is all this noise?
The great he-goat and the drowning dog
*
I am Part Neanderthal, genetics confirms
the difference is when someone runs out of money
cuts descend on deserted streets
brokers reacting in a trading room
burning car after burning car
become a regular form of expression for the disenfranchised
occupied or picketed or just appalled
*
The storm of the future grows skyward
inanimate but reaching down into the orchestra pit
hedgies with a philanthropic bent, aight!
the politicians were for sale this whole time?
randomly rising inside the auditorium
get ready to jump into the Abyss
that consumer society attaches so much value to
*
walk away from the medium vs message conundrum
somehow expected radicals and activists to be falling out of
every doorway
Do they not know the flood has come and gone?
burp once for yes, twice for no
nooks of the ruined bank (formerly a Starbucks)
Keep munching until all the animal is gone
*
on the chaotic untitled works of cities
Avant-garde Memories of the Good Old Days
tour through those countries
the economy will have to muddle
into a police state youth have rejected
as we swing back and forth between moments of clarity
and densities we cannot explain
*
If time flew then there isn’t much fun
This was a bank now it’s a Starbucks
to deal with the crushing debt
A forest full of beautiful trees
I must confess to a little pessimism about the future
give me on-line shelter
gather round an overturned bus
real crowd pleaser
then grant some of them a rage effect / some of them agency
*
Prospero’s phonebooks
in spite of refusing to tour this album
bad faith seizures by police
designed for generations at the end of the alphabet, aight?
Disruptively Better Business
Now Blizzard decides to screw us here in cataclysm
Cue voiceover of slow-drawling veteran talking about
heiress / media whore he very soul of this establishment
*
What a week it has been in climate change!
There’s not much meat on these bones—a stew?
They didn’t really need the police after all, huh.
Gilded wooden animals, tiny fish, seraphic centauresses
It’s not as much like “Withnail and I” as I’d expected
You can’t eat money or poems
*
We come back to sadness
That gum you like is going to come back in style
Maybe I’ll sleep inside my coat
unable to keep the present in its place
death is a dramatic escalation of their rage and frustration
Philip Morris Tobacco Corp. Inc. appealed yesterday to the government
*
Narrative, I lay you across my knees and spank your reddening bottom
Merchant of blemish
It was a landslide—except that, you know, not that many people voted
that sheep probably resent the word “sheeple”
You know that thing we keep doing to the Middle East we keep calling
“liberation”?
I have a hazmat suit and a rag soaked in vinegar
*
These are instances of the poet in shock
artist that blankness cannot actually mirror
find a lyric hole to curl up in
Today, it does not matter
What is it like to have albinism?
I feel I say a drink might help
back to mermaids back to dredging
