#iamrightyouarewrong

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 29, 2018 by malartart

anger

Blurs the motive

Clouds the mind

Blinds the eyes

Binds the wrists

Blows off the roof

Bricks up windows

Drains the river

Sinks the ship

Culls the herd

Kills the lights

Shakes the nerve

Frames the hate

Stills the runner

Stops the heart

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The Logistics of Being A Creep

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 27, 2018 by malartart

         I asked for silk in the mouth

             But got a sour ear

            Waited for pasteurised milk

            And was put out to pasture

    Out back of th’ol’ homestead

       In the middle of The Rapture

 My nose knows not of the scent

     Of dissent, I swear I cannot tell

        If The 99% are even there anymore

                Cursing what I wear won’t stop

        The Redness, walking backwards

    Into the phone booth shan’t put

The Sins back in the box no matter

    How many times I rattle the Marley Chains

Or kowtow to the Keynesian Cross

(To) The Death of Spoilers

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , on April 22, 2018 by malartart

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SPOILER ALERT!! there’s a trigger warning around the corner & its gonna make the predators even hornier racism sexism brings on only jizm the need for speed recedes when the weekend wears off & all there’s left is a distaste for myself IM A WHORE to whoring a PERVERT of perversion perverting it full CIRCLE till I’ve straightened myself OUT to an oval AN EGG timed for incubation & a rebirth from van winkle who rips off the BIRTHDAY SUIT shaves against the ceiling TILES & RUNS to his PILLS that he needs to CALM THE FUCK DOWN!!!

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right@the start there is the beginning of the 1st hour in the cycle

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , on April 21, 2018 by malartart

The cosmos is the only show in town

Mr Universe is the star of it all

And we’re just riding on his coattails

24 is twenty-four is 1440 mins is 86400 secs

Time enough to keep our grip on 2 flaps of galactic cloth

Never enough but soon enough heads go back from

The wild ride & on to fully plumped full moon pillows

“Let’s call it a day, just say its 11:59”

Voices for Vicissitude

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 20, 2018 by malartart

Diverse roads lead directly to Coventry

Silence used to be a virtue

Now it’s a vacuum of vile denial

We are not the same

Even though we all blame

Our hate on the same old

Names we all stand against

w/ backs to the War

Instead of flying the flag of accidence

& breaking toes w/ the stamp of approval

We mush, mush the army of horseheads in to the

Corresponding enemies’ beds and expect

Cards, stacked against, to graciously fall

The Interview

Posted in poetry with tags , , on April 17, 2018 by malartart

K. knows not what is in the files

The typewriter scratches out clap’n’trap

Questions to no avail, darting looks beyond the pale

In comparison to the correspondence that brought him here

Sensual yearning, driven desire, self-possessed polemicist

Neutered by an administration that admonishes the immortal soul

The will to give, the will to take, the will to remain, the will to change

K. can you give us your moments

K. can you come back each week

K. can you prove your loyalty

and drink the snake oil we sell?

Next time be different

But without too much spin

Have a unique perspective

Just like the one our eyes see

Is that ohhhhh—

                                 ‘kay, K.?

it’s all the s(h)ame to me

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on April 13, 2018 by malartart

Fill up on meaning then surreptitiously leave the scene w/ fingers on lips

When he tells us the world is rudderless, I know I gotta learn to swim

There is only naptime where I feel I can switch off manifest guilt

In an empty gallery all our echoes of what use to be are a relief

Telling of the impossibility of tying together knife w/ sheaf

Reverb has the nerve and catches up w/ its own groove

All is amok when it comes to flashing

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