Part I: If This Isn't About Me...


The Devils walk and I see them
Driving me to Social Destruction
Chaotic and unnerving my potted soil
In the Garden of Eden's tomato

Some how it is strange
The appearance of monks in my bed
Taken as a message from the secretary
Sitting, watching hippos meditate
In order to reach the inner of their snowballs

Look-y here Sasquatch pudding with ants
Running over the grill because they want some BBQ
Bat wings to go with their iron and steamroller

I sat there watching them,
Still like moss, I don’t know what I saw
Dam goddit some of a broach

I forgot about the pot roast pig in the oven pressure cooker
That is burnt, burning to a crunchy crispy char-coal cinder
Impersonation of the pig it was once before on the

Farm-aceutical word wizard
Entrancing an incumbent precedence
Of benign awareness looking glass window kaleido-vision-ary

Pictures of old angry women unthrilled by old age
Youngsters and life in general, as life
Withers like a wadded-out bulb of petunias.


Dogs barking, dogs barking loudly
Car alarms sounding, TV fuzz hissing s s s
Loud noises fuzzing z z z z
Those ants haunting me, crawling around my shower

Who do they think they are?
Trying to clean karma from their little antennas
Communicator, tweezer tweeters, little bug pillars
Trying to find a bite to eat while creepy crawling around.

Finding their way to a dead end void,
Ants entering a dead end void...
Would ants ever end a up a voided out transaction
At the mini mart-ian? A fuss hissing shhhh

The sound of creepy crawly dog barks and car alarms,
That repetitive silence
That absurd acid-quiet that transcends the perpetuity
Of the no-noisiness butterfly.

Ivan the Terrible, or Czar, the Tzar
With well fitted sandals to avoid the dirt earth ground

In which, to walk upon soundlessly, soundfully asleep
In fluorescent light dream bacon
Of for forest pudding cakes, and deer pie

With blackbirds singing the chirp of Bryan Windham
He dreams of metallic-mouth-holder-open-thingies
At the dentist of paleontology looking into the cavity
In the mouth of God-zilla

No bacteria could live with the gamma radiation
Of the incredible stench-breath-monster
From eating all of those thermo-nuclear chickens

So mister misses hermaphrodite
Can you stick that in someone elses banana peel
Because your sundae split is splitting my head
A real canon;

01/10/2010

Author's Note: This is extracted from:
If This Isn't About Me What Is It Really About

7/14/1998 - Early Stuff Archive 1998 Folder

Posted on 01/10/2010
Copyright © 2024 Michael Defries