Archive for the ‘poem’ Category

Yesterday Upon The Stair . . .

February 7, 2007

Lust, Groucho:6, 6006 YD

Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn’t there.
He wasn’t there again today
Oh how I wish he’d go away.

-William Hughes Mearns, 1899

Germ 101

August 26, 2005

minor tremors
far from oral walls
incite vicious swans to
rear up and attack
particularly the lips
and the

gnashing shards with fervor
and licking with retarded glee
carnival blood runs across
my chin
violently beautiful
a single dark bubble belches
and splits down the center
spark plugs, bicycle chains,
and brains

Prime Quality Beef

August 25, 2005

calibrate me
primarily through
non-existent colour

one through twenty-three
gaunch skidoo
like uh helluva guru
pink n flirty n bulbous
like uh man show
guns n ammo
mano a mano
i yam what i yammo

shiatsu bones crack n splinter
the new wooden teeth licks
and damn well sucks
like the beef selling hoovers
to mr. huxley

in the end
what can you do
but chew?

* * * * *

Schlomo and Gerta would like to send out a big thanks to the Mystery Gift Giver, whover he or she is.

There Was A Door

August 23, 2005

in so many ways
that door
was the beginning and the end
of me
every day in and
every night out and
eating and eating and eating

there was a door
when i was a
that seemed to whisper
each time i passed through
only once
with surplus nerve
did i ever stop
and ask
in a harsh low growl
what was said

palpable silence
itching creak
turned into whine
as the door


August 22, 2005

i am split
like sunday i scream vomit

i asked her for water
and she gave me gasoline

no sodium pentothal no milk no ice

superset i try to think of me
and can only think of me instead
when does it end
this zipper confusion
of whiplash licorice anger
spliced with a musical interlude schizm
of brainfade terrazzo tiles on formica teeth

i scream
one sexually molested dog
and a collapsed lung later
here i am
back to back
good as new
knew it would be easy
but can’t. but can’t.
ice cream

Thursday Haiku

June 16, 2005

So, the Book of Fnord is taken. It doesn’t look like it’s a collection of Discordian writings, but it’s hard to tell from the cursory glance over I gave it. Bah.

Oh well – the search continues.

Thursday is a good day . . . time for a Discordian Haiku, perhaps? We were discussing them last night at the meeting, so it would be a good idea. And, again, this will be off the top of my head, so be kind:

On a Thursday morn,
there are many many many things I would rather be doing with my life than be here,
at this shitty job.

Beautiful, and ‘true’.

Happy Thursday.

Hail Eris.

The Holy Day of June

June 5, 2005

Today is the fifth. I will compose a Discordian haiku on the spot to mark the day . . .

the sacred chao is
one of thos things that is a bit hard to define
like richard simmons

Off the top of my head . . . there you go.

Happy fifth, my brothers and sisters,

Hail Eris, all hail Discordia!