2008_april_19?_poem

Pirouette, face painting, Contra II.

Montreal Canadiens, I am Canadian, slip a fiver to the bouncer at the door.

The jealous obscurity of fourth place, on second thought I do, I did.

PacMan, Jump Around, Vanilla Ice greeting the Pope at the Vanilla White House of Pain.

Look at what we did to Pluto, Neptune, you’re next!

Figure skating, form fitting, bird flipping.

Consummate gentleman, catered sweet sixteen, victory past the Rubicon.

The hazy spring blossom, a flower exploding in time-lapse, pensioners escaping homes for one last trip to Toronto.

The bad-ass cops busting crime in all ages, batons and baby-carriages.

Tying the knot, Alexander cuts to the chase, Darius flees – but not for long, no not for long.

Sixteen frames per second, thirty thieves working for a filthy emperor with no clothes, a fig.

Tron, Tut, and Khan.

Who Shot Tupac?

Indoctrination period, frozen water canteens, a breezy bivouac (“Evryboty baack tuu da biiivoouac!” – just made it).

Presidents fixing their ties, this is the big one Tiger, bad-ass cops with psycho big sunglasses.

Fuck the police, long live the Senate, Mike Tyson borrowed an ear – a true Plebian (inside the bully pulpit of red-gloved whales).

Pirouette, Nancy Reagan, Pierre Trudeau.

Raise the curtain on the evil empire with blood and iron dripping down to her ankles.

Prose before Hoes!

“What do you think of this piece of art, Thor?”, “I love it.”