AMERICAN BAND-AID
Not for nothing would I catch
Their drift and drawl
Of bad faith and betrayal
If not trahison des clercs
Not for nothing would I catch
Their baal-worshipping skit
Guest starring Taylor Swift
Where, on November’s stage
They went to work
Painting me as (yeah) Big Bird
Notwithstanding how many times
I’ve been I’ve been pushed and shoved
Along my own catwalk of tar and feathers
Just Biden my time to another epicenter
Being the Kermit-green bud
Of another Beavus & Butthead
Dead-cocked Saturday Night Live joke.
What comes around gets served
As a boom-
Eranged dish
A factor these gym-
Khana-rad riders
Fail to glimpse
If not heed
Fail to heed
If not glimpse–
As the self-same
Martin Luther-
Driven & led thesis
We tacked not just
To the mirror
Of their front-back door
But sharply carved
Into their red-
Room’s wall
And (well) urinal’s porcelain.
Meanwhile Meanwhile
Bitcoin dips and ducks
Like a stock off the DOW
Down down down up
And like some Jones,
perhaps, down
Some more
Playing ketchup
Before revving up
Its very own horse power
a la via if not through
Titanium Spade Black Visa
Of its-their?! own digital stirrups.
I tell it like it ought and is
Like one of Slim
Shady’s farts
In that the meaning
Of my nursery rime’s
Language
Runs a little
Until it hardens
For the dead-ring
Hooked-on-Phoenix
Hard-to-dis
Count substance
Of calcified snot
There There Right
Below the Cook-
Driven Ant-
Arctic tip
Of your un-
Circum-
Sized
Peewee
Herman penis
OXFORD PERIOD
That that was an end stop
Clears the magic-
Marked board
Of its own doggy house
Leaving some much needed vacancy
For me to draw
A la permanent frost
Of black sharpie
Magic Johnson sinking
Karem’s tested hook-shot
A gimme for a few LA fans
To watch as they masterbate
Before–by hand of Paul Klee
I draw the fade-
Away
Of AIR
(Yeah, Michael Jumpman Jordan)
VIA alleyway
Of his favorite corner
Federally Expressing
[SIC] the clutch
(Read ‘Trigger’)
Of his Tar Heel true
(you got the blues?–)
Jumpshot
And so weep the Headline
1982 King Georgetown’s
Bulldogs are put down
For PEARL‘s 40 winks
Providing a lobby
For a few architects
To scribble up the blueprints
Leading to the flr_pln
Of Chapel Hill’s DEAN DOME.
That that’s what is up
Folds down more
Than one billionaire’s
Bullet-proof house
Dot dot dot
The pains
Some may
Very well
Know
Yes
Know
Of
(Oh
No!–
Here
Comes
The
Running
Fart
Of
Not
Being
Pure
While
Living
In
The
The
The
The
The
The
Fad
Of
A
Glass
House.)
Their Kastle’s King takes
Henry the VIII’s slide
To shotgun’s safety
Of home plate
A few Hasty squares too far
For the Hell
Of Pinocchio’s nose dive
For which the fall alone
Ought to shatter
If not cut
His ego dwn
To the frost
Dusting my last drowned pint of Guinness
Yours Truly,
LVCYFVR DALTON