Samples various studies across the collegiate curriculum,
finding presentation and expression in, um,
a myriad of modalities through the medium of modules
designed with/to/for/through/against telekinetic duels
occurring, ostensibly, through the doings of the Occult,
thus we’ll summon the real professor: a textual lightning bolt.
Examines and mines -hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to school we go- glue.
We’ll be sniffing it extensively, on Tuesdays, at dawn. If you
oppose, on moral or mental grounds, the sniffing of glue,
then taking this course is not recommended for you.
Instead you should go be a farmer and grow some yellow corn,
or you could be a tailor. You could mend that which is torn.
Spelunks the gamut of hierarchies, patriarchies, nubs,
tubs, bubs, stubs, subs (war machines and sandwiches), glubs,
reconsidering retirement home politics of exclusion, the forest of illusion,
cocoa collusion during Bingo, mango and pepper-jack fusion,
creating real-world slap-happy applications of radical Eco-feminism
which include the formation of wind-chimes from discarded forks.
Prerequisites: open heart, open mind, open wallet.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Why do you spend your spring afternoons
on the grounds of city hall
marching back and forth,
waving signs and yelling?
Here’s how you’ll make a real difference:
Go to church. Find a woman you’d like to love,
woo her, marry her, care for her.
Care for her more than you care for yourself.
Care for her more than you care
for whatever cause you’re yelling about.
Have a home full of children,
work an honorable job,
live an honorable life,
and teach your children to do the same.
If none of that works out,
at least take a break once in a while.
Find a few flowers and give
them away to strangers passing by.
Everybody likes flowers.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Ron Paul is a nice old man
with a lot of really neat ideas.
These days he rides a bicycle
around a tiny Texas town
exercising his liberty
by riding without a helmet
and laughing at armadillos
even though the armadillos
If he rides by your house,
go ahead and wave
and he’ll wave back
and go ahead and smile,
and he’ll smile back.
It’s good. Ron Paul likes smiling.
And then what does he do?
Well, he passes out of view,
pedals his bike for another mile or two,
then slows, stops, dismounts, dithers a bit, and secludes
himself among a wild patch of mushrooms.
He mumbles ‘til the sun goes down,
when his smile surrenders to a frown.
And his face darkens.
His arms rise and fall,
Rise and fall with fingers spread,
faster, faster, flapping, flapping,
flapping like the wings of an angry bat!
Flapping against the United Nations!
Flapping against foreign aid!
Flapping against the Patriot Act!
Flapping against the Federal Reserve!
Flapping against the military-industrial complex!
Flapping against the moneychangers in the temple of the Constitution!
And after a while he’ll go back to his bike
and cycle himself to some place that he likes,
such as the local John Birch Society tree-fort.
But to tell the truth he’s not a bad guy.
In fact, I’d welcome Ron Paul living nearby.
We need more men like Ron Paul
who are willing to fight and willing to die
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Hello everyone, my name is Riley,
and I have a disease called ADHD.
What does that acronym stand for?
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
This condition means I can’t pay attention
I spend most of my school-time bound in detention
I have unsatisfactory abilities of knowledge retention
My teachers say I’m poor at comprehension
I want to scream and fight and sprint and explode
and I’m sorry.
It was never my intention
to do this to any of you.
I try to behave. I try to sit still.
I try to submit to you my will.
But the only times I ever do
are when I swallow a blasted pill.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Cats attacking other cats
My wife accidentally kicking me
My wife flopping over
My wife nudging me on purpose
Vivid dreams or visions
I don’t know which
A stranger crawling into my bed
OK that only happened once
He was drunk
He thought he was in his room
But really it was my room
The train whistling
It’s too cold
Gotta go to the bathroom
It’s too hot
Crazy cramp in my right calf
Pain pain pain
OK not gunshots
I’m in a nice neighborhood
The baby crying
The other kid crying
My wife crying because the kids are crying
Alarm clocks that play music
Alarm clocks that just beep
A sudden feeling
A sudden thoughtPeople asking, “Are you awake?”