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Poem

Sweet Just the Way I Like It

you're a genius she moaned
there can only be so much money in circulation
he replied halfheartedly fingering her abacus
the moon arose sharp as a razor
and they set about creating a dynasty
a master race of thumb sucking idiots
that arose from the dead at midnight
with pretensions of divine right
she was a plump desert highway waitress
with a mile of sunny cleavage 
a beckoning oasis of hope 
to every butt sore trucker
he was a cadre from the Cro Magnon bloc
raised by the Sisters of Inchoate Ire
in a constant din of prayer
a model of pedagogical endurance
a time of war ravaged the land
the grip of the Dept. of Antiquities was strong
wizards made the oceans boil
mystics buskered the street corners
will work for the contemplation of food
a few actually knew something
but in practice were a bit too bent 
by the wind blinded by repetition
to be true in the rigorous mortis sense 
nothing to be done except perhaps
another detached from reality orgasm
now that the past was in hot pursuit
but the leibensborn are clever
and they were smuggled to safety 
in boxes of radio parts
he picked up the Bardic Hour
on the Welsh Luftwaffe Network
she was wired to the 220 dryer circuit
and clicked through the channels
Gamble for Your Soul followed by
Ladies of Leisure followed by
Nearly Inaudible the game show
which asked the same question 
if the picture is perfect is it changeable
this is how they ineluctably became
the enemy of both sides
the rim shots were deafening
but histrionics had worked in the past 
you'd think we were defending against death
rather than a better data set
so it is with surface addiction
a searching modern art piece



From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/

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