songanddancegirl

WEPT

BY THE TRUMP TOWER I SAT DOWN AND WEPT

Hillary was wobbly on September 11th   +now the yellow

ape  + his beady eyed children are circling her tent  intent

upon having us believe she is neurologically unsound

This from a family of robber barons  whose youngest child

Baron I  has never left Trump Tower

Hillary no doubt re-lived the sights+smells of 9/11   Perhaps she

was even catapulted into PTSD  (+not PMS  as the Donald would

have us believe)  Hillary had arrived at the Towers  even before Bush

whose  weapons of mass destruction  theory   was still in it’s infancy

The scents that day were: burning flesh  +mayhem    The sights: mangled

bodies on pavement  Last moments alive in free fall from 80 floors above NYC

One woman whose clothes were burned off of her body  looked pregnant   The

young firefighter at the scene: They were saying she was just bloated  but no  

she was pregnant

Hillary saw carnage  +looked evil in the Bin Laden eye   Later she sat stoically

as Osama met his maker  Where was the yellow one that day?  Likely nursing the

heel spurs that kept him from active duty in Viet Nam  1968    This September 11th

three  non-contacted  Amazon tribespeople  who had walked out of the forest 2 yrs.

ago   escaped back   taking only an axe +their pet birds

Should the coward  who has never held elected office  nor studied the great books

(he reportedly speaks at the level of: Grade 3)   should he become President  the

forests will grow full  as decent people everywhere jostle the endangered tribes

This  as walls are built  +Muslims  +women who bleed from wherever   are pilloried

A laugh  3 parts cackle will echo on the empty streets   See Melania atop the Trump

Tower shredding her  Michelle speech   as Baron I is transferred to 1600 Pennsylvania

Ave. tout de suite  +the pimp to the end of civilization  points his stubby finger  at you

+ at me

__

As flaws go Hillary is a galaxy away from Mr. Trump, an intemperate

vulgarian who appeals to the grimmest recesses of the American id.  

Ms. Clinton’s shortcomings cannot be compared to Mr. Trumps; they

are not of the same genus. One is running a viable candidacy for high

office. The other is a bigoted boor.  

(The Globe & Mail Editorial  September 2016)

FALL 2016

JESUS

JESUS LOVES YOU MORE THAN YOU WILL KNOW  WOE WOE WOE

I just want to inject people’s faces 

You have to be a nurse for that

She was left money so she went somewhere

and had her whole body done

2 young girls with time to lose  shmooz at the

Thompson Hotel    Weird microcosm  of the

macrocosm

Listen  my own dentist said: If I had it to do over

I’d have gone into  eyes   that’s where the money is

Sounds like Graduate redux  though plastics were

big back then   No way would Mrs. Robinson wait

on a big brass bed  for my bitter dentist

But wait she did  for the lemmel Ben    Who no doubt

Elaine made osh+porrich of   (mincemeat in yiddish)

for visiting the orifice from whence she came   Forgiveness

is a funny thing  innit?

Ditto hope:  deceived   deferred   +finally extinguished    Or is it?

In Von Triers  Melancholia  the only characters who do not fear a

giant meteorite  are a depressed woman  +a young child   They do not

care that the apocalypse will be the shit abyss

Children largely immortal until age 8    The depressed woman  for whom

immortality is overrated says: Why make God wait?

__

Estragon: What about hanging ourselves?

Vladimir: It’d give us an erection

Estragon: An erection!

Vladimir: Let’s hang ourselves immediately

Estragon: I can’t go on like this

Vladimir: That’s what you think

(Waiting for Godot  Samuel Beckett  1954)

____

She got into a green car  

pool table green

lit a cigarette,

and I’m sure she drove off to someplace magic

where people were always laughing and

the music was always playing

and the drinks were good

(i saw an old fashioned whore today   Charles Bukowski  1972)

First day of Fall 2016

MAD

WE ARE ALL BORN MAD  SOME REMAIN SO

Man sweeping debris  broom touches my knee

Eyes meet  its 33º    Tomorrow last day of Summer

Summer of high anxiety  scorching heat+humidity

He’s back at it   the sweeper   with dolorous eyes

Boots Landscaping & Maintenance  on tee    Don’t stand

so close to me   Smell of sperm trees  +rot  +squirrel droppings

Sweeperman sweats profusely  drips on my suede Sam Edelman

boots   Leaves a skull+crossbones stain

I weep + turn away   but not before he of the thick thumbs winks

Evil reaper of Summer’s deshabille    Summer when hope biopsied

found malignancy   Especially in Aleppo where children photo’d

with blood+white dust about their faces   Bodies rigid+zombie

Not Halloween for 40 days   Ditto Israelites wandering in exile   Now

we huddle haphazardly  waiting for the ice+snow already seeping into

Canadian bones    It’s in our DNA  eh?

The land of milk+honey 8 frozen months away   Walking on eggshells

for news of Gordie   On the eve of final  Hip concert  there was a full blown

rainbow    Full umbra over gnarly Toronto  promising happy endings

+remission   Only the meek know that the dawn is dusk backward   Don’t

wait for me

__

It’s Godot!  At last!  It’s Godot!  We’re saved! 

I begin to weary of this motif.

(Waiting for Godot  Samuel Beckett  1954  winner of Nobel Prize)

End of Summer of our Discontent

DEEP

THE DEEP CYANIC SKY     THE DEEP CYANIC SKY

So Cormac McCarthy repeats   All The Pretty Horses  pg. 202

Is this a sky you have known?  A sky you have been ravished by?

Is it even  knowable?  As it hangs over this fable of Mexico   A

magical land filled with pretty wild horses  febrile young men   +

the Goddess Mary still weeping for her crucified son  well into the

new millenium

He of the cyanic eyes  bringing the Word to huddled masses  Now

the Pope worships at the temple of Zuckerberg    WORD   (see photo

Pope embracing Facebook Jesus  Septemeber 2016)  This week horoscope

advises: be like the wise wild child in everything   But between the child

+everything   the world lies waiting

Don’t be seduced by too witty oracles in Art & Culture magazines

My childhood friend  whose sister was bitten by our bulldog  recently

lost her mother at a gas station  when a truck rolled over her   This

mother  small for an adult  lived in a 10,000 sq. foot house   round of

face   +impish grin

Maybe she lived with crushing sensations in her lower extremities  Maybe

she dreamed of giant trucks under azure skies  +fields of cyanic daisies

growing by the river of Babylon    Don’t believe any form of knowing  will

save us    Oracles be damned     The future isn’t what it used to be

__

ORACLE OF DELPHI   8th Century  BC

One of the main stories was that the Pythia delivered oracles in a frenzied

state induced by vapours rising from a chasm in the rock, and that she spoke

gibberish which priests interpreted as enigmatic prophecies.

Fall  2016

*vapours have been known to flow from crevices in the ancient riverbed

at Trinity Bellwoods Park  frequented by poets+perverts alike