. The Poet's Beat .

. The Poet's Beat .
"A working class citizen is apt to see this country for what it's worth... A miasma of interlocking variations on differing demographics and geographies unlike any other inhabited space in the world. The American Dream. The rolling footloose hills and the upstanding Apache badlands where criminals cut bread with priests and the children of Hollywood. I am no different. Yet I am still brazen enough to think that the world is a playground built by the rugged hands of a hard-working man in order that my fantasies be materialized." -- P.P. Vonnersdale

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Bad News (or) Blood Heavy

I never said this is the way things should be,
But here we are,
And this is the way things turned out,
Lil' Snitch is carrying deodorant flasks from O'Charlie's Cat House
to O'Hallahan's Fancy Candy Bistro,
Gene Snatch is found in the den in the dead of night,
That wedding you reminded me to tell you about is coming up soon,
The pellet gun was snatched by Frankie "Fetal Eater" Fertelli late last night in the rain,
Girl Jews drop by,
Fill the empty pencil post on Doonesbury's desk while he's out moving his bowels elsewhere,
We're tripping balls in capital arrangements laughing at the janitor's hard work,
Filling in behind the rest, Miguel Anastrazio fingers his pocket pussy and licks his lips,
The judge beckons,
His loose golden crown breaks free and falls blood heavy to the tile,

Who deserves to don the black robe now, Old Man?

My friend Walter Marion married a Jewish princess from the East New Jersey foothills
     where the air is as burdened as the overpopulated tenement houses,
Pollution, they say, was Adam's downfall,
Snatching the Red Delicious from the low hanging boughs of the Tree of Life was her's,

According to the guys at Carville's Buicks on Hwy 98, my lime-green pinto-striped four-speed
exhaust-built Fire Starter has rust at the very center of her heart...

She's dying, you unbelievable asshole,
You absolutely filthy mother fucker,
She's dying, and you're laughing like a rock-salt third-world monkey over there,
She's dying,
She's dying,

And if she dies
Everything inside of me will die too.



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