God damn it

Silver breezes on golden skies
it was a sterling afternoon
and I was pissed
Surrounded by the physical beauty
of all things good
The sun 
The air
The rolling seas
The sounds of gulls over sullen beaches
smothered by morning mists
of a thousand centuries
I wake to see the light of a new day
A new beginning
A new end
Forced to coagulate
with humans again
There they stand
Glued to scarlet striped horizons
as perpendicular 
as the walking right angles they are 
Waiting, waiting
Waiting for what?
Waiting for glory?
Waiting to die?
Waiting for sounds of silence?
Waiting for hymnal passages on gossamer wings
as the pearly gates are throbbing with the shaved souls
of waiting relatives waiting for the next wait?
You wait to die
to find people waiting for you
you can't wait to see them
They can't wait to see you
Is this what we're waiting for
One big fucking wait
Just once I'd like to hear
from one of the waiters
"I just can't wait to see"
-Then I could talk them into suicide



The creative...

Repellant forms of communication
ruthless cunning and cruel
an anus for every finger
worn like a badge
wreaking of false honor
Bathing in the tears of fallen angels
as they suck the the shredded nipples 
of their wretched mothers
dried haggard and splayed
Fragments of love washed
 like love from parched surfaces
as man fondles himself
in front of a mirror on the big screen
with his god and all the others
everybody and nobody
as his witness
its societies collapse
Caligula 2000
crack open a beer
lose your clothes
Bring your gods 
and your fire
lets party, motherfuckers





Shit...

Back in the fifties
I played with my own shit
In the sixties
It wasn't much different
In the seventies
society 
taught me
 how to walk shit
 talk shit run shit
 eat shit and deal with it
It followed suit full blown 
into the eighties and nineties
At this, the turn of the century
throwing some shit back
 at high velocity
 is in tall order
bad shit good shit long shit short shit
evry form of shit possible
will fly back into their 
 points of origin
And if at some point this shit causes shit
I'll crack a beer and laugh
and consider myself lucky it happened




Bless your heart, Dr. Kevorkian...

So much for the pathos of the aging process
I'm only 42 and already watching my decay
Needless to say if its like this at 40
it can only get worse at 60 ..80 perhaps exponentially
The golden years...
Perhaps I'm missing something
My fathers in his golden years and all he does is bitch.
Does bitching become more qualitative as we age?
Does one good bitch deserve another?
If my diaper is changed with greater frequency
Will I bitch less?
Will I crave corn OFF the cob?
When the dribbling of my dysfunctional prostate increases
will I score points for creative elimination?
While knowingly still a member of the human race
is it really possible to grow wiser?
Just because I think I'm wiser
Is it necessarily true?
Will my wisdom outweigh my irregularity?
When I fall do I really want to get up?
Will I need to cheer my penis on?
When sexual activity as a strapping male
goes from twice a day to the darkened shades 
of an ancient memory
will I really care about my bran intake?
Will Lawrence Welk reruns become my god?
Will burning in two eternities
for stealing a junior mint from the corner drug store
and giving my mother the finger when I was twelve
be worse than screaming JESUS CHRIST 
during my first orgasm as a teenager
evn though the neighborhood pedophile was responsible?
Will any of this matter as my arrested bodily functions
slowly grind to a halt defining the remnants of a once vital persona
as my son and daughter search for a parking space to permanently
deposit my living corpse?
The golden years...
Bless your heart
Dr Kevorkian