Holiday Weekend

Clad in acid-washed jean-shorts
with my patriotic fanny-pack
sippin' on a Hi-Test and
munching on some KFC
I assemble a Lego wolfman

as I listen to Debussy...Not!

FOR ARTHUR RIMBAUD

 FOR ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Sad purple photograph face

Downloaded into eternity

Rimbaud’s soft voice

Sings thru radio static

You are now one with the Sun

And the atrocious Moon

Will no longer haunt

Your drunken boat of roses

For Arthur Rimbaud

Poetry is Big Business Payday for You!

I'm going to step up to the plate
I'm going to be trending now
Now and then I'm a Zen goldfish
Painted by the ghost of Mattise
I'm going on a shopping spree
Spending all of my poetry loot
I'm gonna blow the whole kit and kaboodle
On a  imported designer onion
Maybe next year I can afford a lemon
So I can suck the golden  flesh
My puffy lips will be swollen
Like Lindsay Lohan in jail

An Excerpt from Canadada Day...

So were sweating like a Maine coon cat in July, like a fat man sipping soup, like Joan Rivers melting face. Because he said anorexia nervosa is the luxury of the leisure class. We enter a bay made from plastic and spastic turquoise paint. Dear intellectuals: you need not apply for the position of Rasputin’s chicken. You belong on Hollywood Squares- totally L7, Clark Kent glasses glazed by secretions of laptop malaise. What fun this is to see you nearly naked on the boob-tube. Oh uranium in birdbones, drizzle weaving the names of lovers who salivated feasting on blue heron backbones muted and bulbous typhoon of carbonation. Let us hibernate in quantum flare space with Chili and Gribble, acid-etched photons in the ocean floating feral ammonia kisses on the earlobe scar, the blizzard of wishes bending mirrors of the funhouse flesh. Oh lingerie pillow fight party in my kidney-shaped pool full of gin. Oh blasphemous modern dancer with androgynous haircut, your nervy fortune telling is a ticket to the Museum of Modern Failure. The bird they were going to eat stands up straight, adjust her kaleidoscope and pops like a bubble with your new lover’s name on it. Sunflower flamingo, oh octopus oracle, outlaw of the sensorium, please be my gift horse in the mouth.

Like a piece of meat at Vegetarian Disneyland

The chicken pecks at the mirror

but the mirror doesn’t break

Because we live in Victoria

And broken mirrors are against the law

But the mirror in Tokyo

Floats underwater caressed by sharks

The mirror in mexico is

Smeared with bloody  cocaine

The mirror in Sao Paulo

Scatters fragrance to voodoo wind

The mirror in New York

Is very expensive and broken

Into nine million pieces of art

Black dog licks the mirror

With a hot pink popsicle tongue

Like a piece of meat

At vegetarian Disneyland

There are puppets with chainsaws

Carving up the mahogany mouse

The mouse that roared a billion squeaks

That shined a trillion cartoon shoes

The mouse inside the mirror

Is an uber rodent from the fifth dimension

But back in Victoria queen of the cat gang Sheba

Prowls in the perfumed dawn of spring

And  soon a perplexed rodent dangles

In this fluffy hunter’s jaws

Poet and Dancer Emmy Hemmings- the Dada Muse of Hugo Ball

Lemonade for Infidels

When the cyclone hits
I will begin to bedazzle
The painted wooden high-chair
Our Siamese twin sleeps in

Bosco is  a Communist
His scraggly beard cake-crumbed
No amount of shaving
Will make him renounce donuts

Spontaneous combustion
Has always been my pal
Down by the happy train-tracks
Greasy Pete drinks aftershave