rat dogs and shitty sparklers

poetry

six summers
ago in russia
we attempted to
celebrate the fourth
with firecrackers
and hot dogs
in a field of pale green weeping
willows. though
i enjoyed the
motherland rumor
has it the hot dogs
are made of rats
and the sparklers
just do not last.
thus, rat dog in
one hand, shitty
sparkler in the
other, i suddenly developed a
sense of patriotism.

a tribute to you – Robert Matthew Van Winkle

poetry

okay cease from moving
work with me and hear what i have to say
the frozen water has returned with
something completely innovative
there is a force which grips me firmly
i rap like an underwater hunting device
both in the sunlight and at dark (because it’s late)
i ask myself if it will cease
but i cant be sure eh?
to the hyperbole i roll the recording device
like a person who steals
illuminate the performance area
and cover in paraffin the suckers
like a times-past lighting device
move your body
use your booty to run at the noise making device that
has good solid bass.
i’m broiling your thinking organism
like peyote
death causing
when i create marijuana like music
at all subpar can send you to jail (on a federal level)
like it a lot
or dont
you had best make up a path
hit the middle of the target
the child wont have fun with you

if there was a disaster
eh, i’d be the relief
dig my groove while my
disc-scratcher turns it in circles

frozen water frozen water infant
frozen water frozen water infant
frozen water frozen water infant

(next week tune in for a tribute to Stanley Kirk Burrell)
cannot place your hands on said area
cannot place your hands on said area
cannot place your hands on said area
cannot place your hands on said area….