Win On Diagonals

                                                               

                                                                IZZYNEES AS OOZUNAL

                                                (Spanak Finger Backyard Drilldex for you!)

                                                          By: Dom Maltempi

                                                Written in the exciting times of the true beginning of the end of the shit-worlders Traipse through the rotting creamy corpse of the ……but the data shows that these fluctuations are cannibal roses that bulls have been known to throw at Matadors still peeling themselves from the sound bits of ebullient applause…..but how will the end bleed

and on what Da-dra?…..ok my little children pray?

 

 

                                                     Does anyone need a hand that has a hand feeding them?

                                                            Dappled sweetly nectar skin

 playing with their burning tongues                                                                                                                                                             

                                      open up

                                                open up

                                                 zomblicks get their cash infusions 

                                                                         

                                                        Unky Screwyou’s unbuckling to improve us

                                               

                                                                        He will make you love your walls

                                                                        Raze them for the better all

Sacrifices are for sacrificed ones

Need not be some comely new diviner

                                                                                    Or a captured neophyte forced to quit

After the free lessons expired                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    credit lines will move for necks

                                                                                               

 

 

2.                                                                                 Bendy legs and jokey suitors                

                                                                                  moves of slack faced propped

Protector-intruders

                                                                                         feed all the hyperventilating

                                                                                                     glibby boiler plate asseverating

                                                                                                            for snoozy recharge sooty hustle

                                                                       relax those post underworked muscles

                                                                                            razed to crumbles

                                                                                           

 

 

For rich coffin-cakes sucked down with gritty mugs of tampered fog

                                                                                                    for quailing index beauty harlots

to part

                                                                                            their miracle musky legs

 in Dow-Dax-neeky 400 quakes

                                                                                                            Moody Moody how will you grade?

                                                                                                         flunk the corpses

                                                                                    bonus torches will celebrate incinerations

                                                                                      you know those ashes need new ways to get a pay day

                                                                                                                 

                                                                                                                                      

                       3.                                                                            Commuting scarecrows

                                                                                                             mash their perfect teeth

                                                                                                     into a wet paste of prayersqueeze

                                                                                        for dividen-ded angel-squeak

 endings endings bells and cheers 

                                                                                       

                                                                                    

Check out the snoozed-news for new alarming data jingles

tightly closed mouths feed us                        

                                                                                         breifcased Brutus sardine-Ceasers

                                                                              

                                                                                         

                                                                              Gauntly-juiced regalia floats 

                                                                                            held aloft by servant kings

                                                                                    one day reversals followed by disemboweling

                                                                            tickling knives can’t cut the papery tumors

                                                                                stand in stand ins…discount codes

                                                                        Retirements meet CDOs

big returns and bigger dirt scoops funneled into holes

                                                                                                

                       

4

                                                            keep them idle, catching up

                                                                                            keep them grinning with the next top

                                                                                                 humiliating this or that at 8 or 9….

                                                                                                talking robes and singing night caps

                                                                                                        the land of rewind-it-right was cloned

                                                                                                        from merry-merry storied what what….

                                                                                

 

                                                                                        Foment worthless rows between spurious foes

                                                                      we can step in asset shit storms with equanimity

                                                                                because those blue boots are hitting towns

                                                                after an abyss gets bored

                                                                         its baby jaws reform with brio

                                                                 bitting at the newest low point

                                                                        terra-gotcha—nadir-stompers

                                                                    while the others fought themselves down

to me-squashed cadres

                                                                                    lips wet enough to blow a screwy trumpet

                                                                                   

 

                                                                                  Blue squad boots

                                                                        have promised to make the stink not stink

                                                                         but the roots stay sinuous

 fetid wallops swinging freely

                                                                         back to a time where Galen humored 

a need for leaching   

                                                                                                such oozy succor

                                                                           

                                                                                         saysoothers at the Hill

                                                                                    you will know

                                                                                    lend

                                                                         pissy wind for Auntie Sandstorm

grooms the ruins, dusts the mints

                                                                                you can fail if you are handpicked handsome

                                                                                 

                                                                              proud we were to fight for Pickled wisemen

deep freeze a fire built up

when we were too young to hide

from all the knowledge we would need                         

                                                                        running down the scarring faces

of

our bloody hero head cases

                                                            and their bank-bum-buddy’s mouthpiece 

 

 

 

What does it mean to be a proud liberal in the year 2008/2009 licking her fingers and petting our backs?  It’s not that I simply detest the more recent understanding of what liberal means (and not just by the vituperative tongue of some no-nothing wingding who thinks there might be socialism in her cereal, and and that Wall Street backs sneaky Marxists…) no…but the whole sclerotic status quo feel-good do nothing la-la land with a snarling bite that you must let into you’re yawning mouth because you have no option FDR-SPEAK ventriloquism…squishy self-righteous…defined primarily by what it is not, applauding itself for not really working towards a more democratic, participatory democracy…et cetera…..

 

I suspect the recently deceased Studs Terkel, if he was still a-kicking it around this mundi, would have approved what Norman Mailer wrote once to Playboyyz magazine: “I don’t care if people call me a radical, a rebel, a red, a revolutionary, an outsider, an outlaw, a Bolshevik, an anarchist, a nihilist, or even a left conservative, but please don’t ever call me a liberal.”