War is the Answer (Ode to ‘democracy’)
Give me your poor, your tired, your hungry,
I’ll piss on ‘em, rape, and kill ‘em
That’s what your statutes of bigotry mean
Bomb ‘em back to the stone age
and devastate their lands is really what
your democracy means.
Give me your poor, your tired, your hungry,
I’ll piss on ‘em, rape, and kill ‘em
That’s what your statutes of bigotry mean
Bomb ‘em back to the stone age
and devastate their lands is really what
your democracy means.
White Heat
Do u know what its like?
the jungle drum
screaming steel
searing heat
the ‘thump’ the ‘beat’
do you know?
The tribe, the gang, the skin
REAL bruvas
not piss-weak friends
blood bruvas
not lip-service friends
Hear yr blood
pump thru yr veins
RAGE
STORM
FIGHT
can You hear it,
can You feel it?
Roar, roaring rage
Blinding rage
White-heat-rage
can YOU feel it?
The beat, the thump
Can you BE it?
Boneheads lament
you ain’t got a clue
till ya
FEEL it
SCREAM it
DO it!
the thump
the beat
the Roaring White Rage
jack bone
BITS
she moves
her body in unison
very greek (sophocles)
her hydrogen hair
transmitting a dialogue
her rear receiving replies.
dew freezes on her lips
Honey!
honey suckle ...
poets disguised as policewomen
very blue.
expectations flit from eyes/thighs
tending (watering) nerves,
blooming glands &
mood symphonies
there's an orgasm
in her navel
branching, bearing
down
hard & tight
not like sly lighting
more like
working,
working in the
coal mine.
L.
Do u know what its like?
the jungle drum
screaming steel
searing heat
the ‘thump’ the ‘beat’
do you know?
The tribe, the gang, the skin
REAL bruvas
not piss-weak friends
blood bruvas
not lip-service friends
Hear yr blood
pump thru yr veins
RAGE
STORM
FIGHT
can You hear it,
can You feel it?
Roar, roaring rage
Blinding rage
White-heat-rage
can YOU feel it?
The beat, the thump
Can you BE it?
Boneheads lament
you ain’t got a clue
till ya
FEEL it
SCREAM it
DO it!
the thump
the beat
the Roaring White Rage
jack bone
BITS
she moves
her body in unison
very greek (sophocles)
her hydrogen hair
transmitting a dialogue
her rear receiving replies.
dew freezes on her lips
Honey!
honey suckle ...
poets disguised as policewomen
very blue.
expectations flit from eyes/thighs
tending (watering) nerves,
blooming glands &
mood symphonies
there's an orgasm
in her navel
branching, bearing
down
hard & tight
not like sly lighting
more like
working,
working in the
coal mine.
L.
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