Poem 183: Guest poet: Neo, the Catbus

I'M A TWAZY TITTY TAT
I'M A TWAZY TITTY TAT
I'M A TWAZY TITTY TAT

LOOK. AT. ME.

*

i WILL NOT  kill you
but when you die i will eat
your hands and your face

*

I KNOW where you buried the rabbit guts

*

What are you doing
what are you doing what
are you doing

LOOK AT ME
MOTHER-
FUCKAAAHH!


i love you

Poem 182: In Houston, Cuidado

watch your step
in Houston
fludded or unfluid one minute
you're a maister of the universe
and the next
you're squatting in an alley
eating a cat

it is a barbequed cat

you think it can't happen to you
but you're wrong

one minute you're walking on water
the next minute you find yourself subject
to just such refinements

Poem 181: Ungood bargain

Stages falling apart
and crashing into the sea
far away

not far away enough
not to be a scalpel
I shall feel

according to this graph
I feel everything
at every stage

from my own footprint
the pain spreads to my heart

Poem 180: But No

WEIRD druid math, numberless.
UNweird gun math, with unweird numbers
for simpletons
and the mad

'more red is in it'
heating up with
throbbing
literalist calculations

if only you could forget that network
and delete that accounting
then we could have some fun

god knows I'm up for almost anything

Poem 179: QUAEDAM DICTA

Some people had better be careful
talking about certain things
relating to dickheads
who shall be nameless

certain people who should know better
have been interfering in certain things
they wot not of
sans scruple

somebody is liable to get
an unspecific body part
caught in some machinery
quite beyond certain people's ken

and some people
are saying certain things
to which certain assholes
better listen

because quaedam dicta shall not be repeated

Poem 178: Process

foot being held together
by stretchy bitch-tape

world and world-spirit are crowded
into painful foot-shape

for which: rest
and ice

no going back:
the pain has now spread
beyond my foot
and beyond my body

but at the same time I know
it will never depart completely
from its origin

Poem 177: hyrca hyrce nazaza

alien talk
all
cytherizat cantico

dulcis philomena

but you would never know

Poem 176: The Path of Partiality

the chickens are chill on the grass.
the rabbits are floppy and fresh.
Neo the Catbus still
is out for human flesh

goats are silent for once.
they neither leap nor run.
in the forest: half-moon tear-drops
falling from the sun.

in the dimness of the afternoon
Argos and Augie sit with me
watching the projected shadow
of an almost disappearing pea

Molly and Rex absent only accidentally
from the path of partiality

Poem 175: yeasterdy

yesterdays
my beody was so far away
i couldn't reach the controls
to say

'barbariol barbariol
barbariane'

Poem 174: Cicero versificatus

quo usque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientia nostra?
quam diu etiam furor iste tuus nos eludet?
quem ad finem sese effrenata iactabit audacia?


How long, asshole, to you intend
to abuse our patience?

How long must your insanity offend
and embarrass us?

Where will it stop? To what putrescent end
will you not rejoice
to see the nation brought?

With the SPQR, surely,
rotting under the Roman sun.

Poem 173: Cur etiamnunc ades?

You should be far away by now
you should be in Switzerland
in Argentina
in an undisclosed basement
you should be in a volcano in Sicily
or in the catacombs
with the bones
of the long-
evicted dead

you could be in a room
with liberated torture architects
you could be on a ghost train
out of
this mundus

Why are you still here?

Poem 172: The Dead Sound

Congratulations you have found
the dead sound at the final stroke
of the hour

you have discovered
the death-rattle
in the ancient bell

you have found its bitter secret
and made it tell

Poem 171: Maxim

It's no good sitting around waiting
for rabbits to eat your problems

Poem 170: Proprietates prodigii

a reddish coil
tightly wound
and burning hot

instead of a brain

*

a morbid dullness
around the eyes

*

speech
from his belly
like a dogfight

or a cockfight

*

a tongue-like miniature
tentacle
where the penis should be

*

and the most dangerous attribute of all:
the self-possession
of a wounded chicken

*

plus great big ass

Poem 169: PUGNATOR DEI

"The demon is a liar. He will lie to confuse us; but he will also mix lies with the truth to attack us. The attack is psychological, Damien. And powerful. Do not listen. Remember that. Do not listen."

--Father Merrin

but Damien Karras
departed from the script

deviated from the ritual

went wide of the text

all else having faded with use
and with the demon's sense of entitlement
becoming ever more grotesquely
engorged

Damien, the only surviving exorcist
now,
when death was closing up her eyes
as if to say 'OK FINE'
turned pugilist



and made the absolute most
of the incipient crack
in Pazuzu's carnal facade:
that was also, it must be said,
a psychological attack

Poem 168: Upon the Question of Sides

"...violence from many sides"?

a piece of quartz
has many sides
a section of hard cheese
likewise
may have many sides

an origami  baboon
will have many sides
the Rubiks cube
has many sides
the Pentagon has many sides
six or seven at least

but Neo-Nazis
in Charlottesville
loudly swearing Nazi things
and with a car
mowing down
the people
in a crowd

that does not have many sides:
only two

Poem 167: Infant of the Planets

child-form
brain
and face

flower = flower

be kind to that child
that useless lazy
big eyed

infant of the planets

Poem 166: Path of Totality

thousands of people
it's going to be crazy down there
but you're not supposed to look at the sun
 hundreds of thousands of people
from all over the world
that's the only problem
the whole seaboard is
coming down

see that shocks me
you should go on the lake

it's going to get dark
traffic's gonna be crazy
animals are going to be going nuts

we must go to Greeneville

Poem 165: Maybe there's time

having learned no treatment exists
for our tissue-eating virus
(which soon will have reached the braine)
perhaps there is yet time
for one more weird lament

for the people we know
and for those to whom we meant no harm
for the butterflies
and the long-eared rats
that live on my farm

for the visions delusions and dreams
that made life fun
right up to the end

although they never took effect


although some of them did


just as the
VERY
LAST
one
(caution:
nuclear-hot asshole
take shelter)
shall perhaps have done

Poem 164: Forks of Ivy

it was our anniversary
at Sovereign Remedies

the beer called Ceremonial Funeral
or Funeral Ceremonial
was excellent

the menu was like a technical theory manual
the freaky little plates
were pleasing
brutal scintillating
but in general
emotionally stable

but then we tried
the Forks of Ivy

in touched us in the brains

what followed was nothing less
than a boozy bolero
of melancholia
pouring from the heights
of untapped headaches

Poem 163: Eject

hit eject

for acrobatic surprise

and to see the slopbbery labyrinth

within

Poem 162: 22 Years

22 years
married to an utter freak
Molly is still
fuzzy like a peach

Poem 161: ✠ VETUS EXORCISMUS ✠

Hear me demons of every kind
disfigured club-footed and blind
I am about to give commands
so    listen     carefully
to the sound of my words

all you spectral creatures
functionaries attached
to the twisted toxic snake
him in whose polluted wake
you all were pulled along
fully a third of heaven's lights
GORDAN   INGORDIN  INGORDAN
by the power of Solomon's seal
and the Pharaoh's damned magicians
I conjure you all
and banish you
in the name of all three wizard kings
Caspar    Melchior    Balthazar
and David who sedated Saul
and with his harping
put you all to flight
and drove your asses into everlasting night

I summon you hither
and bind you
on the authority of God:
be not so eager as heretofore
to molest us humans

present yourselves
for banishment
and so seek
with all desperate beings
your dwelling in CHAOS

I call you hither
to lock you in a state of terror
and trembling
for that day of judgement
that day of eternal discomfort
miserable day
of  always-dawning sadness
when you will be led into Hell
and we into salvation, finally

By the sublime unspoken name
the Tetragrammaton of God
may you shudder
and shiver

I exorcize you Larvae Fauns and Spirits
Nymphs Sirens and Hamadryads
Satyrs Incubi and Household Deities

✠DAMN✠

seek your dwelling in chaos
and visit your corruption on us
no more

✠ As save us God from these degenerates ✠

Poem 160: ✠ NOVUS EXORCISMUS ✠

Exorcizo te immundissime spiritus

I do exorcize thee infernal spirit

✠

Adjuro te serpens antique

I compel thee ancient worm

✠

by the judge of the living and the dead
your creator and creator of the world
who does have the power
to send you to GEHENNA
or any other type of hell
and according to the principles of decency
communicated to those who have ears
by Jesus himself
that you depart
from this body
at once
with fear
and quickly
along with your army of furies

 ✠

depart
from this body
to which you have no right
and which you corrupt with your hideous presence

✠

depart
surrendering not to me
but to the eternal principle of Nature
which does have the power
to dissolve you
in her stomach

 ✠

depart into the void forever

✠ you ignorant fuck ✠

PER OMNIA SAECULUM SAECULARUM

✠ 🕂 ☧ ☨ ☩ ☥ ☭ ♱ ☫ ♰ ☬ ⛧ ⳩ ☺ 🕂 ✠

⍶      ⍹

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Poem 159: Globall problemz!

popullution levels very high
staggering levles
of humands
freaking the carmichaels
out of the aire!

animules look
and taste
like shit!

dammit!

pools and pullulation
darkness and devils!

poopules increase
what with fatte
to unpossible levels!

plus something is grong
with my dictionary

this is all putting a lot of stresse
on my braines
I warrant thee

Poem 158: Empedocles in Aetna

DID Empedocles
fling himself into the craters of Aetna
them fiery bowls of Hephaistos
 to prove
he was a god?

I woll nat say that hit was so
but rather I woll say
"krater -->  gradalus --> bowl"

If such was his motivation
 did he prove it after all?
Consult Diogenes Laertius, Vitae:

"One of his sandals
was blown back out
settling the matter."

But which way?

DAMN YOU
WHICH WAY