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Best Andrew Delapruch Poems

Below are the all-time best Andrew Delapruch poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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how many walking time bombs
wearing fake smiles
dwell in america?

explosive charge + timer + detonator = resident of the US of A

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem


knew a young man when i was a 
young man whose life had been 
screwed from the get-go/HEWA
his father was a test pilot for the
us of a & a company who spends
money to buy congressmen &
presidents in order to get more
wars started in order to make 
more bombs in order to sell them
so that taxpayers can buy them
so people they never meet in
person can be obliterated in 
THEMINTOASH/what happened
next anyone could see coming a
mile away for the plane stayed
in the air for less than a few min.
& down it came killing the dad
of the guy i knew & leaving a
mother & son now without the
man they loved so much/AND
BLOODSHOTEYES/”i would give 
every penny of it back, just to have
my father still alive.”

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem

as the vultures gather to suck beautiful Venezuela dry

now that Chavez is dead,
the american oil companies
chomping at the bit
begin to salivate & lick their lips,
with the foam
of potent country-gutting
for while he was alive,
Venezuela was one of the only
countries left, 
who resisted the empire’s attempts to
penetrate it & whore it out to the
highest capitalist bidder---
with Chavez dead,
not only will the oil soon be drained from 
within the borders of beautiful
but so will die the social programs that Chavez 
those that had been used to combat the
extreme poverty which exists in the country,
those that the governments before Chavez did nothing to 

so goes Chavez,
so goes a bastion of anti-empire,
so goes a man who pushed Chomsky’s work at the
United Nations,
so goes a man who championed the bloc that
would resist the swallowing up of 
Latin America by the

the vultures are hungry,
they are perched & ready---
rather than create green alternatives to the
reliance on oil,
they will suck every last drop &
make the world do their bidding,
creating a negative media firestorm
to shed hate upon a man who can no longer
defend himself,
just as they will the next who steps up to resist.

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem

cake and eat it

cake & eat it

bored with the 
relationship s/he’s in
but not wanting to leave
the positive aspects,
thinking s/he’s too old to
start again &
been there before anyway---
with a pattern s/he knows 
all too well
looming just over the horizon,
s/he takes the plunge,
not looking before s/he leaps &
not wanting to think about
the significant other
who may be at home
wondering, waiting &
wanting to get to the bottom of
the change in 
habits (all that are noticeable &
s/he thinks they aren’t),
the change in his/her look
(clearly prepping for somebody 
else & the audience at home
ain’t buyin’ that its them),
the change in the craving for
attention from the one s/he lives
with &
of course, the list goes on---
s/he starts to look outside the
cell, refusing to leave on her/his 
desiring &
desiring &
burning up
inside with
sheer want, until
s/he comes across 
someone that s/he cannot have,
someone who says s/he’s got to 
choose between the stability of
boredom at home or
a new trip, entirely,
someone who reveals the obvious in
plain English---
“cannot have your cake & eat it

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem

various frustrations concerning the hiccup-fart orgasm

and so it was that after a good run of
great sex & many lovers,
s/he came across a period of time unlike
any of her/his friends could come close to comparing,
a time of 

each time s/he was getting towards that final punch of that final round
rockin’ & a sockin’ like the robots themselves,
off went the gas pumps inside &
the kissing went ripe as the
hiccups blew in the face of the lover still trying to concentrate
(and dinner only a few minutes/hours ago, now cascading in a fine mist across the face) &
as if that wasn’t enough to drive a stake in any
romance of any satisfactory quality,
out came the blast from the other end
filling the scene with 
custom methane &
sooner than later
(as if it was anticipated anymore by the other party),
the end result of
what coulda’ been,
shoulda’ been,
but clearly

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem

piss and vinegar

piss & vinegar

“the kid’s gonna be full of
piss & vinegar,”
they might say,
when gathered round in a 
family function &
watching the little one run amok,
or they might see her/him throw a ball &
deduct that the kid will certainly be a 
famous football player,
or when the little one whines,
suddenly the rock star is born---
all of this resides in the dreaming mind of the
but means nothing in the great scheme of the 
little one’s life to come,
for s/he will be everything that was never imagined &
part nurture, part nature,
there might be a chance,
if you’re lucky,
that s/he turns out 
which is much more important
than any of the lives you wish you had led,
which you thrust on the life of 
a kid whose barely begun yet.

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem

pax romana

boastful & bloodthirsty empire
stretching yourself silly
from “sea to shining sea”
will there ever be a moment of peace
must you continue
rising like yeast
to command the breadth of the world
until you become far too burnt for anyone to
even rome had a
pax romana
even icarus
paused for a moment to strap his sandal back up

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem

project of compassion

be careful not to become
someone’s project of
for there are those who
find a way to fill themselves
(the hole so deep & bleeding)
up by taking care of another
in such a manner that attachments
may form between
the project & the project 
coordinator (PC)---
where there had not been a 
hole, now one can be drilled
so as to make the two 
where the PC
needs the project to fulfill them 
the project becomes
dependent on the agency of the
PC, forgetting themselves,
forgetting their own individuality in
the process &
if the project does not come to
fruition in exactly the way that 
the PC sees fit,
they may throw a tantrum,
which minutes ago 
did not seem possible,
because they had been looked up
to, they had been admired,
they had been thought to be
capable of sustaining positive 
change inevitably?

ahh, but they were only human
the whole time.

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem

the privately religious

there is a sentiment amongst the most public of believers &
even those nonbelievers who still hold some sick
compassion for them…
“privately religious,”
who do not parade around with the charlatans 
who gather on sundays or get down on their little rug & face mecca,
and they are given some kind of
special treatment,
as being more “spiritual” &
possibly even leaning more towards the agnostic than being
true believers at all,
still, they hold the little books so tightly in their arms
when they go out in the woods behind their house to
be one with nature or
meditate to try & get to be 
one with everything---
they step outside themselves in such a way 
as to escape what is right in front of them &
say to all who ask what they believe:

“i believe in something…i mean, i have my own idea…i don’t go to church or anything”

as if the humans who do go to the worship extravaganzas
think any different?
as if the personal god that is supposed to answer their prayers is any more in tune with you 
just because you don’t call it by the same name or
worship it in the same place.

each member of the privately religious
make themselves more ridiculous than those who get together,
because they sit alone like ****ing joseph smith & his plates,
still believing that there is a unique revelation coming down the pike
for them & only them.

Details | Andrew Delapruch Poem

the deconstruction of the dead

& when you finally die,
they will not let you rest---
for to finally get to enter every orifice
of your once secret world
is something that vultures dream of
late at night,
before cumming in their jammies
to the thought of discovering
what was never ever their business to begin with---
and when they get what they want,
they’ll puncture it with a stake &
run all over the televised town square
amidst interviews with people who will
say that they are your friends now &
family members who will say they always knew you,
all wretches whose boredom in life can be stirred up
into a freshness for a day or so
by the vomiting up of lies concerning a 
dead person for the national public.

ever heard the stories of the sap whose porn collection or
drug stash was found by the weeping family members after
the tragedy?  
ever heard a story come from the mouth of an individual so very worried
that when it is all over,
the “real” them will be discovered?

the incessant curiosity of mundane, mediocre minds
has no limit &
to make themselves feel more alive &
better about their own failings,
they’ll stop at nothing to find out everything about
when said individual is no longer alive
to ask them politely 
to stay out of their business.