Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Mi trash is your trash (1988-2020)









Like a listless marathoner too bored to do it again
The yellow New York trash laden Mobro22 barge drifted
After being refused, like it's predecessors,  by Southern Dump States
It too became a drifting stenchy Dutchman at sea
With the media at its heels

What to do with all this unregulated waste whilst
New York Dumps are filled to the brim and
Scrambling
As the egg yolks seep into the ocean




What to do when
the ocean turns smirchy brown as
Inexhumable
Particles untraceable filmy fragments
Razed unrecognizable polymers
That can't even stand for a comedy show
Multiply and prosper

Protoplasms descend the waters coating
Barnacles, seacows, sulfur worms, tires and Etruscan vases

"Le villain ordure est dégagé"
"Darf nicht traurig sein, es ist zu spät"
Sang a turquoise green mermaid

When the beach is marred with flotsam
And a running chicken has a dry cough
From rising methane
We shall click on an empathetic heart on twitter
Rip off the plastic from an organic food delivery and
Try to flush it down the toilet.



 

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Mickey the Feuermeister




His name was Mickey the Feuermester
He was in charge of firing all the kilns
And he relished the gas firing when
He would get so close to the burners that
He'd almost torch his red 
English, tycoon, handlebar mustache.

Mickey was no-nonsense but
He had one favorite hobby
And that was to to to Natasha's
A unisex coiffeuse who
Knew how to do him just right.

Even during hot summer days
Mickey would take his time
Under the hairdryer he felt at peace
As if the machine could cool his hot temper

After all Natasha had pushed her warm body
Suited in a white smock with boots that laced to her knees
Against Micky and
Clipped and clipped and clipped
Snipping what evil spirits dangled from his head.