Table of Contents

Impious Garage Sale

Doctrine diamondbacks

Hiss behind the pulpits

Of the morbid Metaphysicians.


Of the young 

And old's sin-scape,


In these odd flesh skeletons 

Of both the callused working class

And tempered bourgeois.

Permission slips

Seal hope 

And inauthenticate silicon security

For the elite fleet 

With the gilded 

And embroidered silver-shod feet. 

One said

That if slapped

With a Bishop's infula, 

The Devil 

And his interns joukery 

Would emboss the streets

With an impious graunch.

No escape 

For the liberals

And free passes

For the staunch.

Though the head be shorn,

Leaving but a floccus, 

One tuft of wool

To identify that religious soul;

From outside space-time's stare, 

There be heaps

Of faux illuminous halos

For sale.


Impurity Fell On Deaf Ear


My fury came out

Like Mexican jazz;

Both inaccessible

And lazy.

Laying the daub thick 

On my witless subject,


Was the slut in her; 

Never concerned that the gamete 

Lie prone naked 

On the red and raw.

With no person standing guard

Withstanding the old sword-waving Huguenot

With gold-gilded Holy Writ

Beneath stained and straining wing,

And the ancient blue-haired hybrids

The confederate flock 

That swayed to the tedious 

But pertinent sermon

That could not but effloresce

In the darkened sanctuary.


Late morning perspiration 


On the Poetess's brow


With the reminiscing

Of last night's mingling 

And nestling 

With those who chose to gamble

With the forsaken.

A less generous world


With Russian superstition 

Over-stimulated her,

Placing her 

In an unearned lead 

In theatrical tragedy

And bringing her

One nervous breakdown

Short of her nineteenth.

Would she sow remorse

She wondered,

If plans for retribution

Bore conclusion's fruit? 

The plan

To christen a skull

with an empty milk bottle 

Was an unusual method

Of being effusively affectionate

And one she dares not repeat.


Ideal Crime

Ideal Crime

When the days flowed longer

Than the largest U.S. food chain,

A tale 

Of luxurious lurid misadventure

Was spun.


On a drug business nest egg;


By a lady's tight fist;

Fingers fragile 

Like Vegas hotel breakfast china

Was member of a society 


By heavy use of bragging rights 

To bug-eating courage

At exotic hot spot excursions.

Famously escaping more scrapes 

Than found on a schoolkid idiot

With a pension

For pushing the wrong peer's buttons,

The latest being

A bait and switch

At a weapons-rich Burmese border.

Mountain's chops weren't made

By edge of any man's hand

As lyrics boasted by Jimi demanded

But the sonic buzz droned 

Just as loud

In the unprepared consciences

Of unprepared citizenry.

Publicity exploded,

Creating batches of chaos

In waves 

A small tactile nuke could generate.

The best yet to come 

Came in;

A piece-meal train,

Each cart bragging 

Of a small fortune's haul,

Pleasingly acting as anesthetic

To the lady's feverish greed, 

Toning it down three times longer 

Than the usual heist's prior 

spoils had done.