Mime Death, or, The Best Mime I Ever Saw
There he was, the white-faced, mute clown,
standing in the park,
pretending to be leaning against something.
Then, he was trying to walk through a strong wind.
He pulled on an invisible rope for a while,
then he was trapped inside an invisible box.
He acted like the box was closing in on him.
Suddenly, he exploded into a bloody, pulpy mess.
He was the best mime I ever saw.
July 1995
Bowling
I walked along a road one day,
until I reached the end.
Since I had nowhere left to go,
I turned and walked again.
I walked until my head fell off,
and rolled upon the ground.
I threw it at the singing birds,
and they no longer made a sound.
I took my head to a bowling alley
and got a strike or two;
the best part is, without my head,
they couldn't charge me for the shoes.
July 1995
Untitled
Sally Struthers selling stuff
noone wants to buy.
You too can earn money and
then send it to feed the homeless.
I hate you. Burn.
Untitled
Swiftly swinging back and forth
on your mother's backyard porch,
singing softly in the air,
chasing away all your cares.
Summer season is the best;
winter winds I do detest.
Untitled
He opened the window,
exposing the room to the
majestic serenity of the night.
A sea of sweet-smelling aromas
flooded in.
The smell of blood was in the air,
and he could not deny its call.
He bounded out the window
and floated away,
carried by the updrafts of
the warm summer night.
Searching the land for easy prey,
he found his victim, and swooped
down for the kill.
He caught his prey unaware,
and before she had time to
even think about responding,
he tore open her throat and
let the warm blood flow
down his throat, intoxicating
and rich with life's magic energy.
When he was finished, he discarded the body, and flew
off into the night, searching for
the weak, and occasionally taking
on the strong, always
ready for a challenge.
Toilet
I'm glad I'm not the ocean,
'cause fish would swim in me,
and corporations would pollute me,
and I'd be cold, and deep,
and cause people to die.
But worst of all, little
kids would poop in me
and urinate in me.
Speed (Ouch)
I was running.
I cut through the wind
like a chainsaw cuts
through toenails.
Plastic Angry Wool
Wouldn't it be cool
if they had plastic wool?
Then when you got mad ...
This one sucks.
To Catherine
Wicked as night;
elegant as the moon;
beauty so vast
the toughest men swoon.
Wild as a beast;
free as a dove;
room in her heart
for only one love.
Haunted by dreams;
controlled by no man;
caught between worlds,
she still roams the land.
Slow to endearment;
swift to detest;
not even in death
does her tortured soul rest.
Lunacy
The cheese has molded and gone bad;
when I was just a little lad
instead of toys, I played with cows,
while parents watched with furrowed brows.
I wasn't normal, can't you see,
the victim of some lunacy.
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