Pop Culture
the sharpest crack
from the boxers jaw,
a symbol of prosperity
to those who place reality in syntax
(mediocre vulgarity)
a stick of shaken veins gripped
firmly in my owners hand
waiting,
panting,
prisms of red, purple, amethyst
expressions grown in the autumn air
this city is a row of dancing
stars, glistening from the tail whip
of the moon—
tasting of her peeled flesh
all the while saying Blackberry, BlackBerry
conscience, a forgotten craftsman brew
simplistic concoctions for daytime
reality television;
White Russians,
Dirty Martinis,
Vodka Tonic,
You and I;
(cultural remedies)
please just one look through the kaleidoscope
whiskey wishes never getting passed
the screen door, graveyard excuses
a abscess buffet we dine in
pouring mucus mojitos
(synthetic designer abuses)
unlike the wino sun bathing
societies orphaned child,
we have found a name for self ruin
the title--
Experience, the great scapegoat
(thank you Oscar Wilde)
hypocrisy runs deep
a bottom without legs
a contraceptive with no tip
“To be, or not to Be”
cynics sipping cyanide
feasting on optimism
a glass;
murdered sex raising up
(don’t forget to tip the maitre’de)
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