FOR AUNT GLORIA AND THE UNFAMOUS
Her life not measured in canvas masterpiece
Celebrity media intimates
Politico assurances before a poll
The flags were not raised
Or lowered to regard her
There was no need for urgency
To respond to 911 for help
On Locust Street
She was the wobbling walk
Of drunken red hair
Told me you understand
Don’t you
Aunt Gloria needs a drink
Her obsessions were whiskey
Valium and the high life
You did not hear
On the six o’clock news
That Gloria is dead
Your soap opera not interrupted
Programming continued on that day
She was the drunk
Down the street
Poor Freddie’s wife
Gloria the unhappy person
Like so many others we know
YOUR PANTS ARE HIGH
I know they are
People stare like never before
Creeping down these filthy streets
And my pants are high
I know they are
Fuck if my pants are high
Rimbaud Patchen and Yeats
Wore their pants high
So did Neruda when he kept them on
And Kerouac wore his pants very high
And there is me
With my pants
High like they are
And I say fuck
I have to say fuck
Am I good enough
To wear my pants this high?
But I like them high
So I wear em high
And I say fuck
Fuck if my pants are high
LIVING WITH CONSUMER VAGINAL ECONOMICS 101
Minge-Quim-Snatch-Cooze-Pussy-Vagina
Crazy bitches
Interestingly and creatively crazy
Alluring and bizarre
Blustering complicated bushwa
Irrationalities accumulate
Atop a mountain of tarradiddles
Weaponized maraschino quim
Mentioned frequently in commercials
Appeal to your target audience
Complains of minge wear and tear
The limitless demands
For exploitation and manipulation
Snatch à la mode
By those who do not have one
But envy theirs
We await vagina infinity
Where no breakage or collapse resides
And live in a universe of existential vagina
When did the urge to control happen?
Was there a flight of bitterness
As they all slid by?
They wanted just one caress
Vagina didn’t
And now is the reckoning?
Show us your perfect record
Your admirable history
In the perpetuation of life
In every conceivable respect and chronicle
You choose this moment
To grapple with the troublesome cooze
To manipulate and maneuver
To continue on a corrupted voyage
On what was an uncontaminated path
To travel the course of human beings
Through centuries and travail
Decide to return to the beginning of the orbit
And declare your right to interfere
You want to control the course you began
Via vagina now that you are farther along
It is only human to change your mind
And someone is telling you
It is in everyone’s best interest
To control the lives of others
Guns that kill people are good
Taxes that raise money to feed the poor are bad
Big government to help those in distress is bad
Vaginas are more dangerous than guns
Women are unable to think and decide
This has always been a problem
The natural order is that men have intercourse
Without burden and liability
Intercourse is a one-dimensional responsibility
The resolution and onus must always be vagina
There is no other way to resolve this problem
We must stigmatize and legalize against the ugly pussy
We must control the uncontrollable vagina
It is madness to continue
In their unrestricted vendetta of immorality
Jail and fine the vaginas and the associated accomplices
Build jails for immoral doctors and nurses
The ones who saved you from Covid-19 etc., etc
Put them away and believe everything else
That makes you comfortable
Autonomy is for the people who are right-minded
These vaginas must be controlled and regulated
The path is broken
The beginning is destroyed
The beginning was vagina
Pure and unadulterated
It should always have been
We are trying to wipe us out
Let us summon the American Indian
Appeal to Black America
For grief counseling
But there are no minorities in this fight
Against the rights of choice
For vagina is every one of us
They are coming
And we need to fight back
And win the battle for ourselves
THE DEWS OF EDEN
At that precise moment
A perfect red tear
Slides from Eve’s genesis eye
And reminds her
Of the dew on the grass
In those first mornings
Outside Eden
Dumpster Fire Press 