A Man Needs a Man Friend
Daily you will find me
teaching dogs to brush their teeth.
Think of me as the meat of things.
Dream and ejaculate gasoline.
I got a broken leg
running away from the egg parade.
These are the days
when a girl's in the way
to open a casket
or close a buffet. . .
Jerk you're late for the work you hate!
Spit out the grin from your mouth!
You gotta get down to Retardville;
there will be other things to think about. . .
The Ballad of Bob Crane
Do you remember Bob Crane?
of Hogan's Heroes fame?
Handsome, not much of an actor,
amateur video pornographer.
And this was in an age
before videotaping was all the rage.
Sex was transient,
here and gone in a moment. . .
Except for Bob Crane.
And Bob had this friend
who might have indeed been
a better actor,
but he wasn't nearly as handsome.
Well, you can see
where this is going:
the two of them trawling for snatch
with Bob as the bait,
but that's OK
there were plenty of women to share
and plenty to rape
and plenty of tape
When Bob considered Jesus,
it left his buddy lean,
fishing for cans of oil
in a lake of gasoline.
Ladies and Gentleman,
of Beginner's Luck had run.
The memory fogs my monocle:
the meat on the pillow that could have been anyone. . .
Well, it was Bob Crane.
The Curious Pediatrician
The toys in the playroom
are covered with hair.
The boys and girls from oncology
were in there.
But here's a clean dolly
for your girlish needs
as you frolic to slumber
Father, Doctor, Plumber, Priest!
Surgery, the sweetest intimacy.
Oh, abdomen of love
that I sew shut
round the rogue appendage
snug in clutch.
I'm the operator in the operating room,
only me and you and the coldness I bring
to the warmth
of the inside of you,
to the mouth of the angel
that lives in you.
And every night I dream
of a blissful eternity
and sterling cutlery.
Heaven help the species
addicted to its own feces.
Here was a man
of precedented vision:
he worked for the Pennsylvania
Thirty three years
averting bears and snakes,
he was the Law
at the streams and lakes.
I caught this fish.
I'm 6 years old, was my favorite wish.
But little boy
stupid little boy
that fish is too thin
so I'm writing your father a citation.
God made them different
but I can't make them out.
Who's this fellow
with the hook in his mouth?
Is it Mr. Bass or is it Mr. Trout?
Mr. Game Warden
Pull out your chart!
It's under your jacket,
over your heart.
'Cos Game Warden
I caught this fish.
I caught a. . . game warden!
I caught this fish.
Teddy Bear Laser Speculum
don't be afraid.
I'm a doctor,
but I'm also your auntie.
And the Teddy Bear goes deep inside
to find your pain with his robot eye.
Mommy's brought you in
three times in this month alone.
Have a lollipop
while I see just what's been done now.
Oh, Lord, the things I find in there:
bottle caps and a Popsicle stick. . .
Maybe I should tell someone. . .
make a report or something.
But you're my brother's daughter.
First Time Offender (Prequel to Altar Boy)
Father Sylvan stares
at the mess on hand,
staring back at him
like a stern reprimand.
Beside him lies the boy,
the boy asleep,
blood, semen and chocolate
smeared on his cheek.
How much more Rohypnol?
For three days, maybe a week.
'Til Sunday or some other wakefulness. . .
Father Sylvan stares
at the mess on his shoe.
He wonders if this is the kind of thing
that married people do.
"Oh, maybe it's not so bad,"
("Hmm. . . I guess it's kind of pretty bad.")
Pius XII is so far away.
The boy's in his mouth again.
Seizure Dream Believer
Seventeen weeks together
at a customer call center,
speaking terms and little more,
until one day
the subject of seizures
came strangely and fatefully to the fore.
She said, "Oh yeah,
I used to have epilepsy,
but I keep it in check
And that evening
he masturbated three times
to a single
evil, horrid thought.
On the day he took her pills away,
things took a terrible turn:
handcuffs. . . a furnace pipe. . .
a forearm third-degree burn. . .
And as the tremors overtook her,
he started to come,
but before he could penetrate her,
she swallowed her tongue.
The Girl from the D'n D
The girl from the Dunkin' Donuts
was found hung upside down with her torso split open.
The tissues connecting her organs
to each other were cut in such a way that
whenever the wind blew, they shook all about
'til slowly one by one they fell out
some carried away by a hungry dog
some ending up in the kiddie pool.
The Need for Less Sex in the World
Subject worked in a cell phone store
where no one thought he was gay (so he said).
Take home dinners from Le Purple Frog:
Tofu Cordon Bleu ala Chardonnay.
Subject didn't like gay bars
or the drugs they make you take in gay bars.
Subject dreams from his poster bed:
Subject always wanted a black man,
But the only ones he ever met were homeless.
"Hello, Africanus Noblesse,
I'll give you money, I'll give you food,
and hey, you pauper, have you ever heard of poppers?"
"But the smell of you stifles my erection,
putrefaction is your only imperfection. . ."
Now it's the fourth time in one evening
that a shower interrupts their sex.
Subject's in the bathroom with a garden hose,
vain attempt to eradicate the stench.
Anyway, the following morning,
Subject is found in his poster bed,
the lamp that he bought up in Lambertville,
half way up his asshole.
Grey Balloon Masquerading
In the absence of my industry
rings the clamor of folderol.
And a city echoes it differently
than the pasture solemnly recalled.
I carve a crutch on your public bus
but you under-agers never stray.
Stale breath I once spit away
lingers now throughout the day.
I find you very frustrating
(and I can't believe what your cost is!)
you grey balloon masquerading
as my favorite blood sausage
Prayers and bandages,
somebody stole the sandwiches I made!
Stale death I once tried to fight
cling to me this judgment night.
I'll be the fire to terrorize.
I'll be the fear in the eyes of the fallen.
I'll be the family of mice alive
in your elephantine colon.
The Unbearably Important Lightness of Being Earnest
Do you need to silence me tonight?
Do I chill like a siren?
Frostbite by crosslight?
You're out with the new
and you chew on his ice cubes at the bar
full of fear he's aware
of the sexual failure you are
And somewhere my clean house is tainted
by the crumbs of your betrayal.
She aches in admiration,
Best oblivious to sodomy's horror.
Two lovers close on
A corpse in clover!
"Would we could bathe in her blood
without bothering my brothers."
Now all I really want
is a fitting fate for a sinner:
for the dragon in your cunt
to devour its way inward.
I've been sleepin' on sawdust
for no better reason:
the Trojan Horse you sent has
The Trojan Horse you sent. . .
I'm a suitcase full of old jokes
falling open all the time.
Tumbling from the ferris wheel
to crush the first in line.
The bride wore brown.
The groom wore black and blue.
History spells "necessity":
Friends are cast aside
as I instinctively apply
a broader definition
They took my power away
and all of my appliances they stole.
This generator runs all day
to keep a jar of olives cold.