Orphaned Poem #2

Remus and Retards

Dull clank, crockery
I stack on the shelf,
glass lid upside-down on its Corningware

As I catch sight
through the streaked window
of a flock, a loosening knot:

Blackbirds starting towards the gray, fading West --
some unholy Roman omen,
too good for Etruscans at rest.

Oh Bother, Dear Eeyore

Could it be that once again someone has fouled the mood with poor timing?  I'll console them as best I can if alive and capable -- definitely my bailiwick, that scene...  Be so kind as to get down to it, and I'll resolve to be a lamb and die like a fright...

Mendocino National Forest, October 2016

Matt Lucas Must Die

TOM BAKER NARRATING (I AM A LAZY CALIFORNIAN):  "...After all, mustn't we each of us in his turn find doom, and, mayhap, that which lies beyond...?"

[THE KITCHEN OF A FLAT AT 23 FITZROY ROAD.  MR. LUCAS TENTATIVELY ENTERS, AND COMES TO STAND ABOVE A WOMAN'S MODESTLY ATTIRED BUTTOCKS.]

MR. LUCAS:  "Um, Sylvia dear, I don't know how American ovens work, but I daresay you'd know by now whether or not the pilot light is out....  Sylvia?  I can tell there's more going on here.  We've all noticed that something's been amiss with you for quite some time...  Sylvia?  Please talk to me...  Fine!  Have it your way!  God, you are self-involved, though...  Honestly, girl...  Anyway, where are the children?"

[MR. LUCAS EXITS AS HE ENTERED...]

"Don't You Know Who I Am?"

MY NAME IS PEACHES, MOTHERFUCKER!

What? I've Been Known To Get On A Soap Box When My Butt Is Hungry...

Porn models do not deserve to be treated as though they are inadequate adult children, and in the real, messy world we all have to survive, they have enough people and forces pushing them around -- making decisions for them, and undermining their liberties. The more empowerment and encouragement in their autonomy they can get from the rest of us, the better -- and I'm not even a pornography viewer, m'kay?

Swarm

As the sun sets and the sky darkens, I cannot but reflect that this at first seemingly mundane day has nevertheless been one of signs. Upon arriving home I was swarmed by beautiful wasps every time I went outside. Scores of them. They followed me no matter where I went, drowsily, and as curious as ladies in waiting (I was keenly aware of their presence at every moment, of course -- echoes of that old childhood phobia, and that somatic memory of the pain induced by a sting...) Something is on its way -- isn't it? -- something new for all of us that we'll need all of what we have come from to meet... I suppose at least a few of us know we'll have no excuses should circumstances apparently demand them of us...

ATTN: Dorks, Losers, Malcontents, Ne'er-do-wells, Burnouts, Killers, Assholes, Et Alia...

FYI this handy, go-to book can be found in virtually every California public library (at the very least, in the reference section, meaning you have to use it there.)

My best to the quiet ones -- salaam.

MAKE AMERICA DO IT AGAIN!

* WHO * DARKO *

2016

Mr. Matt Lucas's Worst Nightmare

Somewhere above the Atlantic, on Virgin Flight 69...

MR. LUCAS: "Pardon me -- stewardess? I say, stewardess!"
FLIGHT ATTENDANT: "What can I do for you, Mr. Lucas?"
MATT LUCAS [licks lips nervously]: "May I please order the Mile High Club and a Diet Coke?"
FLIGHT ATTENDANT [chuckles cruelly]: "Sure, but I should warn you: the turkey's a little dry..."

Angels

Nothing clever to write.  Still alive, and still listening.  The sorrow is a bottomless well, and the drugs aren't exactly perfect...

This Shit Is Bananas