Wednesday, October 15, 2008

History (poem)


excrement is the life of the world

and history is full of excrement. and excrement- full

of cycles of bloody serendipity. is that why we teach our children to
share. share so that they can learn: everything belongs to them. and that they
can take-take-take.

everyone is supposed to share.


a genocidal assimilation for all the susceptible idiots, the
European egoists call them,
America is an illegitimate child.

spores of self-proclaimed autocrats.

now the individualists are writing books
about the joys of anarchic autocracy. they'll write any-
thing for New York. D.C. feathers are falling down into Tennessee
and Georgia. and Alabama. poor sore Confederates (pouting still with firey, swollen
protruding lower lips)

rebel yelling in their cotton fields. america would have been better off as
a confederate

of plantations. and now america is being infiltrated by foreigners and intruders
state Mr. and Mrs. White in their white and gold Cadillac.
get them out.

and the little devils or angels in their hairy ears, whisper: but we've killed the
remainder. depopulation just by breathing.

I'm so primitive. so why don't I just cut out your heart
and make a pretty little paperweight from all the
cholesterol and coronary lard to weigh down my petitions to my

desk in the swell five-by-five space that you have taken
and then given.

and taken. back. again.

Note: To clarify, although it would seem that I wrote this poem in response to recent events in America, I actually wrote it years and years ago, probably at least 10 years ago...

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