Carnivorous butterflies
With wings of Teflon and aluminum
And guts of rotten lard
Sit quietly upon
A fleshless, polished skull,
Letting their meal digest,
Preening the blood from their probosces
With delicate gestures of steel-spiked feet,
Chattering among themselves
In the soft, breathless whispers
Of the mad.

On the Western shores of the Ocean Sea ( Read more... )

Come to me at evendark ( Read more... )

I can't decide -- should we call for it to come, or pray against its coming?-- BTW, the seeming liberal sentiment in one line is just an acknowledgement of the historical reality of liberal guilt-trips.

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And a voice spoke to me from the heart of a mushroom cloudI will make of you ( Read more... )

Even murderers
Have their place:
Wherever else
Would we get hangmen?*

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*The poet has been advised
That this word is out of date.
So please to pardon, ladies -
Of course I meant “hangpersons.”

Never forget: beneath your feet ( Read more... )

Why explore? Why ask "How", "What", "When", "Where", and "Why"?
Why the itch to record "90 North" in the log?
Why yearn for the deeps of the sea and the sky?
-- Why does the flea do what it does when it runs out of dog?

by Gertrude Schtupp

Pigeons on the floor -
GORE.
Gore, gore,
Pigeons
On the floor.
Is there more
Than gore
To be had
From pigeons
On the floor?

* * *

Pigeons in the road
Mowed
Down by passing
Semi’s,
Pigeons in the street
Cleat-
Ed by a
Green Bay Packer,
Pigeons in the park
Offed by a narc
Eking out a subsistence
Budget.

* * *Pigeons ( Read more... )

Let's have another one just like the other one!

(Well, they're not exactly alike . . .)
( Read more... )

Down a palisade ( Read more... )