Archive | August 2015

Same Space Marriage

The holy piss holy water when scared shitless.

Holy gross-out, mcdude, I can’t keep my mouth shut.
What a hell of a sight, here, before my eyes!
Has the whole world gone crazy, or is it just me?
Has nature swapped roles for the bird and the bee?
No way, Jose, I will not improvise.
Dude, you cannot marry your frigging mutt!

Don’t matter if it’s pointer or setter.
Don’t matter what the Supreme Court has decreed.
Your love screws with my mind, as well it should.
I will not have your kind in my neighborhood.
I don’t care if you get on your knees and plead.
For you, there’s no living, for worse nor for better.

You want me to cosign your doggie style?
Well, listen up, junior, let me give you a clue.
No dog can give a man fantastic head.
Go find some nice deep throated woman instead.
You’d lick a lab’s loin? Don’t tell me it’s true.
Don’t care if she nibbles your ear all the while.

Take leave of my church. Kindly be on your way.
I’ve married all kinds in my numbered years
Among races and faiths and the various genders…
Pimps and prostitutes, pearls and pretenders
But the gall of you two surely accents my fears.
Please scoop up that poop, and have a nice day.

Love Is An Infectious Ease

Love Is An Infectious Ease

Love is a full blown Infectious Ease
Who inhabits all creatures human or not.
Its primal urgency rivals World News
Of which there ain’t much. It’s mostly a ruse
To get people worried and feeling distraught.
We’re busy right now! Go piss in the breeze.”

Love infiltrates our human race
Despite all malignant hate and fear
Salvaged from crannies afar and nearby
Then baked into sumptuous Network News Pie
That makes of the stomach a cesspool austere
Which then circulates venom all over the place

Love laughs in your face and says, “Lick me, please!”
It don’t ask no opinion on national debt.
It’ll slap you upside your busy head.
It’ll make you damn glad your ass ain’t dead!
Love has no conception of ISIS threat.
If people was fuckin’, they’d see as Love sees.

One can trip on Love, if that’s what’s in store.
The consequence, though, is that Love conquers all.
There can be no exclusion where Love is concerned…
There’s no badge of courage nor medal to be earned.
Love, among things, is a dick standing tall
And a good loving woman who wants nothing more.

Lives Matter.

The Magic Realist

We The People of this treasured land
Are a union most perfect in so many ways…
Domestically Tranquil With Justice For All
Was the initial intent which then became law.
Our Pot, as it melts, though, sets some necks ablaze
To the point where they speak with a gun in their hand

 So, this Matter of Lives comes up once and again.
After feeling such sorrow, does it hurt more to know
That Lives have no color except that of you?
We know whose don’t matter. The point is, what’s new?
In morbid nostalgia, do we echo our woe,
Thus empowering haters to gain a new friend?

 Human Nature’s a Bitch! Don’t you know that it’s true?
Our forefathers knew this, hence, their slickness well-penned:
To evolve a system of blue and of red
Wherein gene-rooted schisms that result in bloodshed
Yield Correctness Political and the right to pretend
That we’re the one nation who has but a clue.

Thanks for the Updates, Dr. Bill.

You're a Borg of a Pill, Mr. Bill!

What is the deal here, Dr. Bill?
I’m sitting here doing my usual thing
Then all of a sudden your commandment appears.
With work not completed, I’m up to my ears.
Now, you tell me I’m finished, as if you’re some king?
Up your Thrill, Dr. Bill! Why be such a Pill?

My work has value, and yours did as well.
You’ve done some great things most keen and world class.
But you fall short of proving you’re human, to me,
Except for this fetish for updates I see.
Their randomness of occurrence is a kick in the ass.
If you updated the devil, he’d evacuate hell!

And just what are all these updates for?
This brand new computer still runs like a snail
Well after it shits, showers and shaves.
Is your intent to make us all digital slaves?
Your interrupts, sir, are beyond the pale.
If they did any good, would you then give us more?

Well, Dr. Bill, here’s an update for you.
Throughout your infusion of binary grace

I’ve been writing about how this all makes me feel.
I’ve learned to separate virtual from real.
Within every nuisance, there is truth to embrace.
Thanks, Dr. Bill. Now I bid you adieu.

Mr. Trump, The ‘In Your Face’ Speed Bump

No Time For Political Correctness

No time for warm fuzzies; no time to kiss ass
This country’s in trouble, oh but alas
You’re sharp shooting me for the revealing, crass things that I say?

My record is proven. I do get things done
And while I’m doing them, I have lots of fun
I’ll grab hold of this nation and get it to run
Just like a reality show. It’s much better that way

 Yeah, that Megyn’s a witch, but then why should I care
Even though she cleverly managed to curl my fake hair
With a zinger that seemed to come from right out of left field

My position on women is: I’m always on top
I prefer they be sexy AND to know how to mop
And, if they’re superb, I just may send them to shop
In short, I like them quiet, trained and well-kneeled

 And, as for you Mexicans. You can all take a hike
Right back over the border by foot or by bike
Except for those few who can do as well as I do

I have a great relationship with all of you blacks
And I’ll say just the same thing behind all your backs
Though whenever I’m around you, I can’t seem to relax
If you get me elected, I’ll proclaim Spade Haven for you


I Focus…

Focal Vision

…in ways most others care not
I am labeled ‘autistic,’ but what’s in a stamp?
Seems we’re all but chess pieces played on a board
The name of each piece reflects how worth is scored
Yet each has the guidance to come out a champ
By allowing “The Player” to call each shot.

I focus because it’s the way that I am
I can’t see the board; I’m consumed in each square
The number of possible games to be played
Exceeds that of electrons all ever made
There’s no doubt to my purpose; I am sent here to share
Yet another strategy unique to each jam.

But maybe I’m here to just be a fool
I don’t really play chess; the fact is I suck
If given a choice between chess and some hay
I’d be chewing my cud for the rest of the day
This analogy flattens as if by a truck
Lest I make of it an exquisite tool

Since autism grants me a narrower view
I look at the Game from the inside out
I am privileged to honor each perfect square
And to thank it for letting me spend some time there
There’s no reason to worry. I have no cause to doubt
That the next move is certain, fresh and new.