Monday, April 25, 2022

Saturday Morning: Two Days Late and A Dollar Short


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




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

While men on Wall Street and Capitol Hill
Scratch their noses
Thumbing through black books with
Happy endings


Dem bones.




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
Sucking up there


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