Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Long Lost Ramones Lyrics #1: "I Wanna Wear a Bunny Suit" (to the tune of "I Want To Be Your Boyfriend")

Hey, little girl
I wanna wear a bunny suit

No little girl
I mean I wanna rabbit suit

Why you laughin' at me?

This rabbit suit is the key!

Why you laughin' at me?

I just gots to be me,

that's why I wear a bunny suit!

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Praying Mantis of Atlantis

Part I: "Praying Mantis of Atlantis" (a jump rope song, sung by fourth graders at Northeast Elementary)


"Praying Mantis

of Atlantis

Everything you chant is

a can't-diss,

gotta-kiss,

ever-lovin' honey bliss.

In your space ship

you eat cool whip

mixed with prune dip

Yumm yumm good"


Part II: "Spoken Word Interlude" (performed by Tim Curry)


"You are the Queen

of all Atlantis

You are here to find your lost brother

in Kentucky.

He fled inland.

Can't you see that?

He fled inland.

Never wanting to be found..."


Part III: "Wild Cow", (sung by former Journey lead singer, Steve Perry)

"...He's a cow now

wild in the woods.

Yes, I said a wild cow now.

He has no earthly goods.

Dontcha know he's a cow now?

And he's lookin' for a wife.

But all he's found

through all his strife

is a rusty old

ginzu steak knife..."


Part IV: "Cows Haven't Hands" (sung by Neil Patrick Harris, to the tune of "Slipping" from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog)


"....He'd use it to kill himself

spread some insurance wealth

but it's too rusty


It'd fall apart in his hands

So this is where things stand:

Our bull's still lusty


For a moo cow with udders hanging low to the ground

But cows don't have hands

So "How to grope titties?" will confound

Him, break him down he's

Tipping!, Frat Boys are tipping him down!"


Part V: "Bovine Insect" (a jump rope song, sung by fifth graders at Northeast Elementary)

"Bovine Insect

(God's choice elect)

do a gut-check:

No Slant Rhyme!"

Sunday, July 19, 2009

“The Burn Ward Arsonist” part 1 of 3

1
--




The crusty old madam eyed up William Tenor skeptically, her webbed fingers absently twirling around a chewed up Bic fountain pen as she appraised him.

“You certainly look the type.” She finally admitted to him, her voice every bit as thin and raspy as he would have expected from such a creature.

Willy certainly couldn’t disagree with that, the “looking the type” bit… although he had to admit he wasn’t exactly sure what “type” of help this monstrously of a whorehouse frequently employed… he was relatively confident that his weaseley little red moustache and three-piece off-white pinstripe suite fit the bill quite nicely.

He followed the old madam around the back, past moldy water coolers and tacked up Giger prints and up to a door that read “Fetishists for Hire”.





Inside the sparse pink waiting room Willy cold already feel the cold pangs of anticipation, that, and his growing erection. The madam took no notice of him or his miniscule cock as she sat on one of the few imitation ivory barstools arranged in a nonsensical pattern about the odd little room. Willy sat too, waiting, his hands over his lap.

Finally, his name was called. And via a scum-ridden monitor, in a crowded room full of all sorts of other sorted “types” everything was explained.

“Fetishists for Hire” was set up to provide “service” to the hideously undesirable, but that service went far beyond mere sexual intercourse… hell, almost any starving hooker would suck off a pair of Siamese Twins for a crack rock (as the video [narrated by a tired sounding Billy Zane] put it)… but would that hooker ever truly worship them…. worship their deformities…no, only someone like Willy could do that.

Willy Tenor smiled, for he knew he had found a job in these difficult times.


...

LINCOLN'S ASSASSIN MY FACE

Abraham Lincoln woke up. He had had that dream again. The one where he is shot in the head by that squid with the giant breasts. One minute he’s looking at some slippery slimy cleavage, thinking about sticking his flesh-pistol in there and then the next minute BAM his brains are splattered all over a theatre balcony.

He was glad the dream was over. He got out of bed, making sure not to disturb his wife. She was a light sleeper. She was down to eighty pounds and blind. She was gradually turning into a mole. Lincoln was convinced that it was those goddamn confederates who were behind it. Was nothing sacred to them? It was his WIFE, goddamnit!

Lincoln walked to the corner of the room and looked down into his spittoon to make sure that his birthday cake was still there. It was. A soft and sugary rectangle covered in gooey phlegm provided by the Chinese prostitutes he hired. He’d eat it later.

He went downstairs, careful not to disturb his kittens who were busy playing poker. Those bastards were always gambling. And now they had taken up smoking pipes, too.

In the kitchen Lincoln made himself some breakfast: two hairy eggs and a glass of donkey milk. Shit, that stuff was good.

He was too busy chewing loudly so he didn’t hear me sneak up on him. I put the pistol to his head and then whispered, “This is for John, you bastard!” and then BAM-BAM-BAM. A bunch of presidential rice-krispie treats splattered across the kitchen.

His wife ran down the stairs but instead of attacking me, she ran outside and dug into the ground. She had a nice ass for a mole. I’d like to stick my flesh-pistol in there, I thought. Why not?

I walked up to her and said, “Sic semper tyrannis.”

She stuck her ass up out of the hole and said, “Where’s the beef?”

I stuck my manhood inside her, answering her question with a forceful thrust. God bless America.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

In the Depths

Young girl, stay away from the big, brown river,

Young girl, stay away

For those that go down there, they go down forever

And bid the surface goodbye.


In the river, I threw lots of plastic

Candy bar wrappers and frisbees

And sometimes a ballcap would fly off my head

On days when it got very windy.


And the garbage there gathered and made a decision

Perhaps because I granted it written permission

And said it wasn't garbage

But a dragon.

In the presence of a priest and a notary.


So there's a tincan dragon with bottlecap eyes

And big canring arms

And he talks honeyed lies as he strangles ducks, geese and fishes

Saying "come here and I'll grant you three wishes."


And when you do

(And you probably will, no matter what I say)

I'll feel sorry for you

Since you'll slave your life away.


He'll make you his bride

And keep you down there

To iron his socks and his underwear,

Thanks to your foolish pride

Since you ventured outside

(And don't tell me you won't

Cause I know that you will

It's in your eyes I can tell)

And went to the big brown river

Where that dragon will keep you forever.

Stinky House (song, to be sung to the tune of "Jingle Bells")

Chorus

Stinky House
turds of mouse
pile up every day
Momma stays up every night
to sell a cyber-lay-ay

(repeat chorus)

Verse

Chatting on the 'net
with some guy from L.A.
Momma thinks that I don't know
she puts up pics for pay

But clicking of the keys
revealed the gruesome sight
I need clean clothes but mom's a ho
with airbrushed cellulite!

Chorus

Friday, July 17, 2009

Gynophobia

...

every second
is an hour

every hour
is a lifetime


the wet
warmth
of human flesh

was once a blanket

and now I shudder in the cold


pain is merely a distraction

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

I Remember Omens (edit)

...


when I
was just a little boy

the girls
across the street

would let
me burn them

if I cried


such compassion
such intimacy

(like funeral sex in a bed for one)


our sins now akin to shadows...

TENANT

I seek shelter in her pubis
A nuisance
Infestation
She fingers my carcass
Dry skin sprinkles down on a soiled mattress
Treat the infected area
With a cream-colored salve

Twice, daily

The vacuum hums a song of starting over
I’m swept into the trash
Next to rotten take-out
On top of all the pictures of us

The lid closes
I’m left alone
With my thoughts

And the soothing mew of jawless maggots

Monday, July 13, 2009

Safety Words and Broken Jaws (or A Dinner for One)

……………………………………



A fireplace
sets the mood

hot pokers
burning coals
and penance

my lips
swollen shut
say “I’m sorry”

as my words never could

wine and roses
a dinner for one





~

"She was his earth, his ground. He cast his seed to her again and again. And the creepers grew… nourished." [Jack Ketchum]

"I know you can't destroy me..." [J.R. Hayes]

Old Lover Haiku

I remember when
Chernobyl was just a spark
in wild blue eyes

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Swamplands

Swampland
...

this street is an illusion
all old oak trees
and fat white niggers

the night air is unusually cold
I can see a whore off to my left
arms around her sagging chest
and shivering like a surrogate rapist
after a cold shower

I can’t help but wonder if her dick is bigger than mine

distractions
so many of them

Burroughs was right
This city is a
dead museum



-------------

Swampland II

...


this jungle is hot and wet
I’ll save you the analogy

purple leaves
browbeaten trees
rot
and mutant wildflowers

this jungle is not a jungle at all
this jungle is a swampland

and this swampland is my home

Monday, July 6, 2009

Postmortem Love Triangles (II)

I always knew, that deep down, I was a bit of a faggy pervert... but this level of "kink" freaked even me out. The strapping young lad had his dick firmly implanted (and fucking, mind you) 7' inches deep into my urethra. The pain was unbearable, and the pleasure was the same. The act was inhuman. Surreal almost. I thought of old Dali and I came blood.

Have you ever seen a snake consuming it's mate after the worn ordeal of fucking.

This was it.


In the morning I saw a note... a poem really, on the bedsheets:

Our lies pronounced in whisperd hisses
our hearts reduced to hardend stone

Our passions fanned through forked toungued kisses
now petrified to die alone

(She only wants you for your power)

~L



My fangs tasted my toungue.

Lomen...

I would have to think on this.


---------





For W.S.B.

Bad Little Pen

(old and new stuff, all new edits)


...


Pornography For The Soul

...


the dagger thrown, imbedded
the rush of tainted blood

being inside you feels like pulling a trigger...


...


Fresh Meat

...


joking casually about our true intentions

dickless atomatons
standing in line
for fresh meat

we must rise up

discard these
flacid attempts
at conformity

worship, my brothers
is not achieved
through submission

...


Saturday, July 4, 2009

Postmortem Love Triangles

(new edit)
...


buried demons and a dry lakebed


you wear the scars and black leather
but I was the one to watch her die

I see the moon at night
and I think only of her


I see your face at night
and I think only of her

any semblance of love we might have once had
has now long rotted away
along with our happy home


at night we neither sleep nor make love

...

BUT SHE PLAYED HER LOVE SCENES WELL

High heels pitter patter
Across dull stained linoleum
Black streaks crisscross
Against pink blue paint splatter

The shoes come off
Pantyhose exposed to poison air
Stinky wiggling piggies
Beckon and dare

Dismembered beard hairs
Under the kitchen table
The radio on the fridge
Pumping sexy syrup

Her boots found my nose
Creating telepathic tattoos
Nostrils engulfed in flames
And frowns

She didn’t know how to lie
She didn’t know how to smile
She was just an olfactory arsonist
On a crime spree

A Soft Prelude To Dying Alone

...



scavengers undone
by the coming of winter

turning on each other out of habit

warmth fades along with sanity

and madness
is a drug


...

Thursday, July 2, 2009

The Fourth in the First Cycle of my Short Films

Aktion IV- Falling Petals


[Fade into plain white room corner, no furnishings except for: two tall thin tables and a grandfather clock. The tables are covered with white cloths and stand near walls, nine feet out from corner. On each are black and white vertical striped pots filled with white carnations. Behind each table of flowers is a black drape hanging on the walls, about two feet above the top of flowers down to the floor. The grandfather clock is centered between the corner and the left table of flowers, from audience view. Lying slumped upon the floor, dead, are five bodies. Starting near the tables on either side, the bodies are positioned equal distances apart from each other in a right angle opposite to the room’s corner. The smallest body, preferably a small child, is to be the furthest point. They wear full black funereal shrouds, with painted death faces and white gloves. Standing between the corpse-point and the wall-point is a pierrot clown, arms out, palms forward, head down]


Pierrot Clown stands still, hold for ten seconds.


Start Adagio in G Minor by Albinoni, chiming of grandfather clock/plucking of strings.


PC slides into consciousness, surprise, looks around, shrugs, sees bodies, surprise, horror, shuns, sobs, falls to knees, looks around, sobs.


Slumps over, on floor.


Hold.


Stands up, slowly, head down. Lifts head, crying, alone, distraught.


Looks about, desperate. No one.


Slumps back, shoulders down. Sobs.


Glances up, idea, possibility of happiness. Walks to left pot of flowers, examines flowers, looks at bodies, examines flowers.


Pulls out one flower, walks to nearest body, corpse one, waves carnation in body’s face, places flower in costume, pulls back, waits.


C1 stands up slowly, arms out, lifts head, lifts arms to PC, walks to PC.


PC and C1 dance a requiem.


Eurythmics.


PC and C1 end dance in middle of floor, PC on right, C1 on left.


PC pulls carnation out of costume, gets down on knees, smiles, hands flower to C1.


C1 takes flowers, looks at flower, eats flower, drops stem between it and PC.


C1 slumps head, dead, walks slowly back to original space, arms out, somnambulist.


Falls back to ground in original position and moves no more.


PC stands up, shuns, throws hands to mouth, sobs, looks up, questions, falls to knees, sobs.


Glances up, idea, possibility of happiness. Stands up and walks to right pot of flowers, examines, looks at bodies, examines flowers.


Pulls out one flower, walks to nearest body, corpse two, waves carnation in body’s face, places flower in costume, pulls back, waits.


C2 stands up slowly, arms out, lifts head, lifts arms to PC, walks to PC.


PC and C2 dance a requiem.


Eurythmics.


PC and C2 end dance in middle of floor, PC on left, C2 on right.


PC pulls carnation out of costume, gets down on knees, smiles, hands flower to C2.


C2 takes flowers, looks at flower, eats flower, drops stem between it and PC.


C2 slumps head, dead, walks slowly back to original space, arms out, somnambulist.


Falls back to ground in original position and moves no more.


PC stands up, shuns, throws hands to mouth, sobs, looks up, questions, falls to knees, sobs.


Glances up, idea, possibility of happiness. Stands up and walks to left pot of flowers, examines, looks at bodies, examines flowers.


Pulls out one flower, walks to second body out, corpse three, waves carnation in body’s face, places flower in costume, pulls back, waits.


C3 stands up slowly, arms out, lifts head, lifts arms to PC, walks to PC.


PC and C3 dance a requiem.


Eurythmics.


PC and C3 end dance in middle of floor, PC on right, C3 on left.


PC pulls carnation out of costume, gets down on knees, smiles, hands flower to C3.


C3 takes flowers, looks at flower, eats flower, drops stem between it and PC.


C3 slumps head, dead, walks slowly back to original space, arms out, somnambulist.


Falls back to ground in original position and moves no more.


PC stands up, shuns, throws hands to mouth, sobs, looks up, questions, falls to knees, sobs.


Glances up, idea, possibility of happiness. Stands up and walks to right pot of flowers, examines, looks at bodies, examines flowers.


Pulls out one flower, walks to second body out, corpse four, waves carnation in body’s face, places flower in costume, pulls back, waits.


C4 stands up slowly, arms out, lifts head, lifts arms to PC, walks to PC.


PC and C4 dance a requiem.


Eurythmics.


PC and C4 end dance in middle of floor, PC on left, C4 on right.


PC pulls carnation out of costume, gets down on knees, smiles, hands flower to C4.


C4 takes flowers, looks at flower, eats flower, drops stem between it and PC.


C4 slumps head, dead, walks slowly back to original space, arms out, somnambulist.


Falls back to ground in original position and moves no more.


PC stands up, shuns, throws hands to mouth, sobs, looks up, questions, falls to knees, sobs.


Stands up, bitter, walks to left flower pot, grabs carnation, walks to center-point body, corpse five, waves flower in front of face and throws flower far behind him, determined.


Steps back, waits.


C5 stands up slowly, arms out, lifts head, lifts arms to PC, walks to PC.


PC takes C5 in arms and hugs, sits on floor, takes C5 in lap and pets head, talks to, presses to body and rocks.


Loving, desperate not to be alone.


From left, enter Death.


[Death is a slim, naked woman. On her head is a black masquerade mask, winged, with large black feathers rising from it above her light, curled loose hair. Her lips are black, her nipples black, her navel black, her pubic region black]


D walks to PC and C5, shakes head. Walks behind them, picks up flower PC threw, walks back to PC and C5.


Bends, attempts to pull C5 from PC.


PC squeezes C5 to him, refuses to let go, shakes head, hugs C5.


D rises up, full height, frightens PC.


PC pulls back, hands to mouth.


D reaches in and grabs C5, pulls to her.


PC holds out arms to C5, shakes head, desperate.


D and C5 ignore PC.


D squats, hands carnation to C5, C5 takes flower, looks at flower, eats flower, drops stem between it and D.


C5 slumps head, dead, walks slowly back to original space, arms out, somnambulist.


Falls back to ground in original position and moves no more.


PC shuns, sobs, shakes fists at D.


D looks at PC.


PC sobs.


D stands up, walks to PC, taps on head, pets head twice.


PC looks up, surprised.


D pulls PC to feet.


D and PC dance a requiem.


Eurythmics.


D and PC end dance in middle of floor, D on left, PC on right.


D walks to left pot of flowers, pulls one, returns to PC.


Hands PC flower.


PC takes it, unsure, looks from D to flower, to D to flower, to D to flower.


D smiles, nods, coaxes, urges ahead.


PC smiles, eats flower, smiles, looks around at bodies on floor, takes step towards, smiles, looks around at bodies on floor, opens arms wide, takes step back to D, thanks.


D smiles, takes PC’s head in both hands, kisses head, lets go.


PC’s head slumps down, PC falls to floor, dead.


D looks at him, smiles, dances.


Eurythmics.


Stops in center above PC, tilts head, spreads arms, looks at bodies on floor.


C1-5 all stand up, heads down, join hands in circle around D and PC, dance in circle around D and PC.


D raises arms around her head, smiles.


D thrusts arms out, C1-5 return, walking backwards heads down, to their places on the floor.


D smiles, lowers arms, walks to flowers left, pulls one out, sniffs it, smiles, walks from frame.


Hold.


[Fade to black]


Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Farting Corpse (song, to be sung in the tune of "Jingle Bells")

CHORUS

Farting Corpse,
Farting Corpse,
Flatulent Decay
Grandma ate a can of beans
then blew herself away-ay

(repeat chorus)

Verse

Shopping for a piece
at the gun show yesterday
Grandma said "Goodbye, cruel world,
cause aging just don't pay"

But grandma loved her beans
each and every bite
they were inside her when she died
now gas comes out each night!

(repeat chorus)