Monday, June 25, 2007

Haiku # 15

Brittney's vagina
Peak Oil Hater's Distraction
Vacant stares at void

1 comment:

Onward And Upward said...

Fee Fi Fo Fum,
I smell napalm and gamma rays

Not too far off like a torn map
off over yonder, the pig tailed pilots yelling
Bombs Bombs Bombs away

Vaginas at the helm,
bloodied by their periods and commas and propeller engined selves
Playing world cowboys and Indians
I always wanted to be the Indian

At the tippity top
as all the clocks stop
whether at zero hour or hero hour
the hour will pass

It must pass
like a church basket in a whorehouse
coming and going
the dick and the bush
sticking it in America’s tush

The slapbacks and the green
peace insn’t in this scene dear friend
spied on till the end
the spooks getting off watching FISA free porn

Who wants to be on a fly list anyway
my passport went through the wash
it’s all a wash
Spun round and round with the chemical born generation

Your birth certified by Dow Chemical
Mom’s on dope
Dad tied to the rope he affixes around his neck every morning
Cell Blocks with Aeron chairs
They sit and they stare
at that soul sucking screen

The hum hum hum of the mojo machines
multi layered proposals full of lies
set down in front of eyes
long dead and forgotten

Well I remember the sweet taste of freedom and fucking art!
Shake my head twice and roll the dice
Fix me a drink boys!
My plastic cocoon exoskeleton is stuck the the chair
It ain’t me who’s sitting there

I won’t go softly
My jugular knows ninjitsu and will cut your knife
It’s just the snuffing out of life
It’s all about the juice now
That sweet crude way down
And the dealers are hooked

Smack Smack Smack
It ain’t even a sneak attack
There’s a knife in every back
and those pig tails are a flying
B2 Bingo
And I can feel the gamma rays again