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.
About this entry
You’re currently reading “Bloodbath by the Tigris,” an entry on Keynotes
- Published:
- March 29, 2015 / 8:41 am
- Category:
- Uncategorized
No comments yet
Jump to comment form | comment rss [?] | trackback uri [?]