Sunday, December 6, 2015

You can bet on it

in an inner city park
Jesus
is handing out
hypodermic syringes
to junkies
hooked on heroin

come tomorrow
he’s giving free
abortions
to poor women
who’ve been fucked over
by
assholes

on Tuesday
he’ll be feeding
the homeless some
of his special
chicken
noodle soup

Saturday
me & him
are off to the track
with a big pile
of cash…

we have a good
thing running
in the last

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Truth

if we could just
leave truth be
leave it
where it can do
no harm
leave it
in the minds
of all the fools
who keep finding it

but no…

they keep dressing
it up
wrapping it in religion
science
politics
mathematics
medicine
for this truth
will keep you
healthy
happy
&
hateful
this truth
will lead you to god
to the promised
land of milk
&
honey

truth…

if we could just
leave it be
somewhere secret
somewhere out
of the way

perhaps…

just over there…

Sunday, June 21, 2015

It's 2015

watching the news
on the tv
&
you suddenly realize
that it’s 2015
&
nothing has fuckin’
changed

people are still
killing people
because their skin
is a different
bloody colour
&
politicians
are the same
motherfuckers
as they always
have been

it’s 2015
&
all forms of art
are about profit
&
fame
…15 minutes
on some crazy
fucked up
reality show
&
suddenly
you’re a twit
with a million
mooing humans
hanging off your
every word

for heaven’s sake
it’s 2015
&
no one’s reading
Walt Whitman
anymore

no one’s heard
a word that
Gandhi said

no one’s aware
that consumerism
is the new religion

it’s 2015
&
Jesus is drowning
at the hands
of some commercial
God
while capitalist
Christians
pretend Santa
is the postmodern
Messiah
&
the xmas tree
is the new symbol
of hope

it’s 2015…

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Somewhere over the rainbow

somewhere
someone
jumped off a bridge
hoping to be cleansed
&
baptized
in a new beginning

somewhere
someone
told their sweetheart
that love doesn’t last
forever more
&
often a lot less

somewhere
someone
choked to death
on revenge
&
resentment

somewhere
someone
looked to the heavens
&
whispered

fuck you

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Poem for Epicurus

To know
when too much
is too
much
&
too much
can kill
you

when too much
reaches
into your
pocket
fumbling
for the gun
to protect
itself
from
those with
too little

from
those trying
to grab
a tiny
chunk
of not enough

from
those who
are
too late

from
those born
where
too much
is just
too
fucking far