Tuesday, March 3, 2009

new poem

Cinema Skullz

the buck stops here so
lick my feet
and shoot this dirty animal,


filial sentiment,
bondage, or
something American,

some shadows,

and you shot a gallon
of gunk on
your mother's ghoulish tits
and your mother
is just

like you,
a real cuckoo
with credit problems
and bad skin.

back to
your final cameo,
and the softness of skulls
behind other skulls, other screens

darker, the
last scene equals many dead things,

your naked process,
your severed heel

my last lunch before war

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