by Doug Draime
Pretending what can only be pretended
in the hollow cave of
a diseased mind, and laughing
like a crater on the moon: dead and
deep and treacherous.
War mongers and whore mongers
dine with presidents and kings
on lavish tables.
Meteors and broken stars are buried
beneath the junkyards of the world.
Dignity is something sold on back streets
and in dark crevices.
No matter how often flowers wither and
die in the presence of politicians,
no matter what the earth is destined to
spew out of its bowels, no matter what price
the death of innocence,
the horror continues unchecked by the
appointed and elected guardians of society.
Legions march heads-up past the viewing stand
where the decked-out
dignitaries are seated with chests full of medals,
wearing thousand dollar suits, their wives
smiling beside them
like vampy Vegas whores.
- ► 2010 (221)
- Some thought
- pissing away time
- the greatest truth we have ever been shown
- Pretending The Apple Pie Is Fresh
- Elitism Is Defeatism, Sorry, Charlie
- “NOSTALGIC MENENTOS”
- HORROR EXPRESS
- MID SUMMER NIGHT
- AUGUST, THEN AFTER
- The Vulva
- WRITING CLASS, SYRACUSE WINTER
- MEDICATION IS FORNICATION
- long stretch of emptiness
- Asked why
- broken places
- LYING OUT IN THE FIELDS WHERE THERE’D BE WILD STRA...
- NIGHTS IT WAS TOO HOT TO STAY IN THE APARTMENT
- STILL NOT HAPPY
- PAST THE ABANDONED RAILROAD
- Aeneas or How I Miss Her Ass
- mea culpa
- Twenty Five Dollars
- News Report
- Where Did The Money Go
- IN MIDDLEBURY, THE BEE MAN DIES
- MIDDLEBURY BEE MAN DIES
- life in the small-press
- 'you're my diamond boy'
- ON MY MOTHER’S BIRTHDAY
- boomerang kids
- THE MAD GIRL CAN’T BELIEVE SHE EVER WAS SOMEONE WH...
- She Doesn’t like the Ramones
- The Thunderbolt
- ▼ December (38)