SILLY SYMPHONIES
Being born an X means feeling
Something is always on fire
While drowning in a wall of water
Or desiccating in the desert
Lucky ones' bodies are numbed
By the anesthesia of exhaustion
Allowing a progressive march
To a tomb of known soldiers
 |
| Doodly-Do. |
With whom we shared
Long commutes and
Overpaid underskilled undertakers'
Values on the dime
Weekends owned by everyone
Who didn't want to be present there
A protracted wake
For unlived potential
Reliving the question of where it went wrong
Whose ancestors stood strong
And whose should have been shot in the head
Neverending self-perpetuating emotional labor
 |
| Chicken Thigh: Neither Native nor Proper enough... what does that make me? |
From which the Great Salt Lake says
There is no retirement from unnumbed pain
So count your eggs carefully, move rather slowly
Or else there is not much to gain
Who fucked who they say
Why does it even matter anymore
We are all
Half dead
 |
| Karl Learns Not to Take Himself So Seriously, 16"x20" Gouache and Watercolor on Trash, from the new Trash Panda Series $66K USD, $60K in proceeds go to Physicians for Social Responsibility to provide migraine sufferers with air quality monitoring devices |
Inside writing appropriated poetry
About gas-powered
And carpeted lawn service
Symphonies
While men on Wall Street and Capitol Hill
Scratch their noses
Thumbing through black books with
Happy endings
 |
| Dem bones. |
BUTTERCUP STAR
Mars is freezing
No time for rest
Cuddling another chore
Choking something for the weak
If potatoes aren't planted in time
Daddy's distilled breath tells us
Return to Earth to pick a switch
Rehabilitate sorry excuses for life
Venus is so hot
Mom will burn your balls right off
Screaming unmet talking stick desire
To unwanted children she couldn't help but make
 |
| Pretty little mermaids all in a row. |
Frantically pulling her clothes off in secret
Because He never understood
Night sweats, bloating, fatigue
Worried more about productivity
Than filling empty holes
With seed, or even stopping to
Share a dream or song
Wasting time wasting
 |
| Oh the humanity... |
Perhaps we should meet
Somewhere in the middle
With more water
Between the two I am parched
And frankly, there is
Nothing
Worth
Sucking up there
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