MEAT

Meat is gravity

a dreamless state

pieces of death

there already in the beginning

and in all things

their essence.

Meat allows nothing to escape

and is empty of all but itself.

Meat consumes meat

becoming more meat

fleshier carcasses

duller slices of heads and legs

some younger

some more red.

The butcher is our friend.

And if we pretend

to aspire to other ends

with our many meat brains

meat guards meet us

at the door to the station

to disconnect the trains.

Fresh meat sizzles with notions,

take sides.

Lies slide from its bloodied hides.

Shapes abound.

Meat like meat likes to fry

in meat patties and on delegations

and in pairings that result in

baby meat who cry.

The meat parade began in time,

its womb the mirror, before

which we walked on air

part of the atmosphere

or flew

or were never there.

A WORD ABOUT BUSINESS AS USUAL

People should be screaming out of windows
people should be kicking down doors,
jumping on flags,
shaking like epileptics!

How is this possible?
We have
nearly a million years of human evolution
and the standard line can still prevail:

“It’s mine!”

Well,
It’s not.

You have no right to it.

A spell is on
you,

which continues
generation after generation,
an afternoon darkness,
your robotic mind
clinging to a cliff of lies.

And your mouth that spits on
anything better
and shoulders that
shrug ugly
and bellies that stick out
like eggs
.

And you want security?

This will not stand!
There is a Law that says:
This. Will. Not. Stand.
We will make sure
you understand this.
By train and by plane and by ship,
your skin will dissolve in fear.
You will breathe in the stinking corpses
of your children.
Your houses will crumble over you.
You will be availed of no
hope,
no future.
You will cry to the end
of your days
when you may finally
realize the Justice in this
for your atrocious
incomparable
stupidity.

LIFE WITH YOU

You are the blood in my every thought and motion

The essence of my dream

Your voice echoes softly in my sleep

You are the morning star to me

Your face is round and pretty

A mask of the sun

Even if I am almost over

I have only just begun

Our love has not been easy

The way has been obscure

We tried so many times to undo

What we were never sure

The future is your forté

You pursue it like a bitch

Will we go together

Into that abyss

Is this just a dream of love

Is it really real

Can I ever express to you

What I really feel

My heart is so weary

My mind is so upset

Though I have no regret

For what hasn’t happened yet

Will we meet again one day

On that special hill

And play again like children

Which we were once well

If not

It is just as good to be old with you

And mope and rub away our aches and pains

Many times or few

And have a word with you

As you go here and there

Tearing up the scenery

While I stay in the square

You know time is relentless

It takes you for a ride

Remember that beach we knew

Remember that morning tide

I wish us together there

In the early air

We join the endless ocean

Beautiful and fair

Our love means more than

Days and nights

Our lives are not just

Bits and bytes

Come

It is already light

Please

I don’t want to fight

SURVIVAL AND SOME

He huffs and he puffs and he blows
The house down
He sings for his supper
He’s a rare clown

He has a girlfriend who hates him
She has good reason to
She calls him a transparent fake

And a certified Jew

Not a juggler or philosopher
He ever was
Not a lover of the lofty life
That was just buzz

He always salts his beans
and peppers his hair
He comes on time
And pretends to care

But he doesn’t really want
To save the world
That’s just a line
If the truth were told

He has a crush on Satan
Not a thing for Christ
He calls himself an agnostic
Unless it’s a bad night

He’s been a con-man forever
Never held down any job
He’s done time for nearly everything
And has no connection with the mob

Though you’d never suspect it
He has a tender side as well
He blows kisses to the moon
From his apartment in hell

His childhood was rather lazy
Though it’s gotten sort of hazy
His family was middle-rung
His mother was slightly crazy

His father was a barber
Who liked his steaks rare
His mother was a janitor
With a big pile of hair

As a boy he always played
On the wrong side of the track
As a girl he always played
With the leader of the pack

Then came the crash
In his late teenaged years
The suicidal mission
The solitude and fears

That landed him in the middle
Of a psychological ward
With old people who slobbered
While they played cards

This was just the place for him
To chill out and think
This was just the place for him
To get fat and pink

The doctors had the cure
For the illness in his head
Stringy food and pills
Yellow green and red

Which cheered him so much
He slowly exploded
Into the next century
All arsenic coated

He eventually straightened out
His curves and his kink
Went straight for the bottle
And started to drink

The years have not always been kind
to this boy
The poisons that he swallowed
The means he had to employ

To keep right on going
The measures he took
Were not easily come by
Were not found in a book

If it all works out in the end
It’s too soon to tell
He’s not dead yet
And he’s close to being well

What is true for certain is
That he’s paid his dues and some
What is less sure is why
He didn’t turn around and run

There isn’t much to gain
By beating a dead horse
There isn’t much left
Besides dying of course

Whoever may want to take a lesson
From this saga and this man
Might just as well forget about it
As fast as they can