Bloodbath by the Tigris

Whaddup Dawg?

Nada

Nada Damn Thang

Twister. Cellar. Clang.

Hide out.

Whisper.

Do the second thang before the first

If you must

If you must.

Do the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and on up to the hundredth thang

Before you do the first

If you must

If you must.

But do come back to do the first.

And do it right

And do it all

And do the best you can

Before you fall

And don’t tear down your barns

To build greater ones

Because tonight thy soul shall be required of thee

And don’t call your child a fool

That’s bad parenting.

And lead by example

And in fact

And in fact

That “thou fool” kinda sorta makes me doubt you is who you say you is.

A Swiss Guard enters

And rips off the clothes of the bad parent

Revealing him (or her).

And then a woman

In an antebellum ball gown

Comes in and orders the Swiss Guard to strip down

And while he stands there

Naked (and looking good)

We can see he’s just a man

And another woman enters

And before she’s even touched the Southern Belle

The Belle knows exactly what to do

And when she’s naked

We see she’s just a woman too.

And so on and so forth

And the

And the

And the

And the

I want to go to the mountain today

And take a canoe on the lake

I’d like to take my truck

But my truck’s out of gas

Please don’t let “earning”

Stand in the way of your being.

I wonder how many artists

Have died at the grindstone

Their beautiful lights snuffed

By cultural norms

Certainly many more

And greater ones too

Than ever hung in a gallery

Or took home a golden statue

Few fed themselves

By feeing the world

Why on Earth

Would the greedy rich

Who have the power

To kill dissent

Not exercise that power?

It is certainly not in their best interest to allow it.

So I’ll just go to the meathead gym

And make my muscles big

So at least I’ll like what I see

While I’m gazing in the mirror

And waiting to die.

Hang in, brother, hang in.

Just keep trudging forward

No matter how you feel right now.

You didn’t get here overnight

You won’t get to safety overnight.

Are you lost in the desert again?

What he did to me is one of the cruelest cons of all time.

Really?

Hyperbole much?

All my dreams of Iraq are about betrayal.

I’m horny.

Don’t “act out” sexually.

By a show of hands– no use the other hand

By a show of hands, how many of you get pissed off when you hear the term “act out sexually?”

Fuck that shit, bro.

It’s just sex, bro.

You’re a dude, bro.

Just a horny dude, bro.

Do your thing, bro.

What do you feel?

I am afraid.

Afraid of what?

Of what I might feel.

The little Band-Aids I allow myself keep me from going on a killing spree.

Maybe I could get away with it

Killing I mean

In the right context, you’re labeled a hero.

I do like blood and all

a lot

The thought

Of taking

The life

Of a Nazi

Or a Jihadist

Or any other fag-hater

Doesn’t it kind of make you smile?

Boy, it sure does me!

That’s what I thought about

On the rifle range

At Pendleton.

Don’t you like what it feels like

To have your hands in a lot of blood?

To literally bathe in it I mean?

I certainly do.

Me too…except

Except what?

Except when it starts to dry it gets sticky.

I would want to be able to shed my uniform

And bathe naked

In a tributary

Of the Tigris

And have a clean and sunbaked uniform

With clean silkies too

Folded on the banks

And waiting for me

And someone I trust

Who’d hold my M16

And give it back to me

When I was ready for it.