Best Morgues Poems

In times of a virus spreading its unruly truths I wonder why

	What matters most seems to be toilet paper

Loops and loops of the stuff and...

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Thrift shop miracles of multi-
layered mysteries,insomniac-
drifters stumbling up the highway to
a water-logged Nirvana.
Stuttering hymns to flannel saints 
who have not yet; joined the cult of
organized-nicean-rebellion.
 ...

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Bones of rotting timbre mimic 
morgues of truth
Pleading memories of oaths to rigor 
mortised youth
Snide sacrosanct hides under 
shrouds of pride
placing careful snares under 
gleaming...

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GET OFF THE SHEETS
Dancing in the wild
Tossing in the deserts
Freaking in the woods
Cheering with the birds
A thunder in the midst
Shaking I open my eyes
It’s been...

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…….



Pangie….


Adores Dirty Harry movies, his mouth 
like a wrench.
And he has no trouble finding,a most 
sexy wench!
Sticks to his principles, evil people have 
no chance.
Ah,...

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Jesus, back on the trail
Arms flail, knees rebound
Stomach crunched
I've got a hunch to escape
Equipment lodged through my brain
The rotary club
Is not worth fighting
With feet shuffled...

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once upon a human

two kids named
ahmad and stan

each in his world 
loved reading Peter Pan

didn't see it coming
their dreams broken
down by the khazarian plan

they fell...

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dag  gon  it!  now what we gon do..i still have not fully processed it, show wish it would quit  that corona...

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Every shogun nation wanna be 
in war visor control
Commandeer the missile steering wheel,
be the king of the road

Likewise, imperial power lust eyes
wanna be the top...

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Verdant hills fluttered whispers of amber winds
And flowers too smiled on the face of morning
Yet, nothing was the same in season’s dawning
Disfigured by blemish on...

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They’ll take it away they’ll take it away
See them talk much of freedom
Just to take it Aa-way…
There’s talk of disruption; there was talk
Of great fear,...

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No mustard bombs are dropped
No audible or silent shots are fired
No planes are necessarily blown or hired
No flags are deliberately flown or flapped
No soldiers crossed...

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Redding Poem 4
“Flying Down Interstate 5”

We departed Redding at 3:45, 
In the dead of an October night.
Those tumultuous streets were morgues then,
As we raced to...

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to nap or not to nap
whether it is glorious solitude
existing in a dream
or awake in the daymare
that age has bestowed this day
a lonely orphan from...

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It is the only time we get to laugh at black
So de rigeur at funerals and stogy old photography.
Take Dixie Land at home in New...

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