shepard fairey

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gustav dore

our boys

death and burial

wm

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Last Saturday


Today came the Maker to my door, hoping to collect what I owe
on my sins against his terrible mercy. Good luck on that. Let me
wash your dishes, I’ll crouch by your knee like a dog, but don’t ask me
to pay. I slipped through more thinning passages than even your
hundred fingers could count. What’s that worth? Not

a free ride in sight. Price and accounting’s greasy sheen over all.
I took in a breath. It cost me to do it. He turned out my pockets
and took my home, my bike, and my last-born. She capered
like a fawn at his knee. It should have been me. Now
I’m sitting here with nothing but this gray dawn,

the same tide that turns us over and over and over.


Write Like A Bastard


love like a truck. Lick the lodestone with regularity
at first, then speed up. I got wisdom’s never been written
nor even repeated, I know how to write a score. I know
the last thing ever will be you gasping your love.

And I know how to load the implement, hand her over there,
shorty. I went down early in a dirty fight, thought I’d avoid
a passle of mischief staying out of the way like that. Then
she come along with her needs and issues and cunt and all.


Monday, March 2, 2009

Weighting The Freight


you run across some strange ones. In Calgary, I saw the sky go
lemon from inhalants released unknowingly into the atmosphere
by middle school graffiti artists. You had to give them credit.
The night said, look at me, say my name like you mean it,
and I’ll sing. The forest was blacker than that.

Morning found them of course partially eaten by wolves,
who had been especially adapted and introduced into exactly
that biosphere where the claimant had his left hand taken
at the wrist. To be plain, your honor, is my way, therefore,
let me say, my client deserves to die. Of that

no man can have doubt. A more low-down, evil scuz-ball
you won’t find. He’ll have to do.


Traveling With A Python


can require resourcefulness, and ingenuity, certainly, patience,
I would say, of all qualities one could have as an itinerant python pacifier,
an appreciation of time as process, process as good, as in good for
the python, which is why I should probably insert selflessness

up there near the top.


Treasure


can be found here. Wealth beyond measure will come
to some. Others will find themselves fleeced of even
their shorts. Many will despair. Over there,
leading away up the hill, there’s your path to certain

glory. A way paved in pearl, and a rest for your head
in luxury’s finest moment, stilled and captured.

If you take it, let down pride, leave all starch behind,
it’s easier that way, then when they come
to harvest your head, it won’t shock so much,
I hate surprises, don’t you?