Poetry for the modern era, exposing the hegemonic magic that has intoxicated everyone. I’ve written 5,000 poems for you over the past 20 years. Full throttle feminism, poetry, and PSYOPs in action – running on people power.
The Greens Of Prolmama
that place by the sunglasses store on Sunset Blvd
has helped a lot of cancer survivors get that way
You’ve been that way with your teeth
to stop and turn to the mountain
it makes us look that way
the way we look when there’s just too much
Cowboys riding into the future from the past on a spaceship
or an ion generation device
They make nice clothing at least for the persons who want
to look like that
The Greens infuse my chest cavity
so I look up to see Andromeda’s aftermath
and the aftermath is ignored by all the mammals and the reptiles
unless there’s fire
we’re then drawn outward
to a journey that takes a long long time
I could count the plastic in the toy store
or a municipal dump all for an afternoon to remember now
when we kissed as men reading the Bible
O life of this bird,
breaded and deep-fried.
Padded hands of god
laying the skinless muscles down
by auroras of gold and marble.
To seasoning, to spice, to oil.
For the oligarchs who
spend their vacation in God’s house:
the celebrity-chef cuisine.
For the executives who do their will:
the Palm Springs five-star cuisine.
That we may be so fortunate
for them to bring it down to us lesser,
the human beings.