STROKE

haloes, they twirl off aspirations
erasing perfumes, worldly contributions, trumpet echo thru windy melting
morning


eagerness, like squirrels eating caffeine nuts, reeling 'round tough
oaks while incredible metal leaves charade running waters, or massive
erasures, oriental
paper sky & our communications


vices scrape cigarettes pouring black glue
hit on some excellent sulphur fume
fingers are basically charcoal.  
we drill for months, our kids gush up, 
so much oil in the womb
sperms the rivers of the world!  oil
yr naked breasts


for grandpa's moaning eyes, funny,
he ain't got no more seed,
& like a good girl
you remember his old heart

WHITE BOY, WOBBLING, WHILE

a guy named paul smokes gitanes (bout filtre) as sunlight reaches over albany like a leg of gold ash flaking down, dusting all trees & things, iron sizzling sparks at burning edge of his cigarette. roosting on his back-porch, scribbling
poems with a red pen in blue notebook, paul's hangover grows mild, a tender green mold sweats off his forehead. he's thinking about sexy college girls, their pink & sky-blue panties in his mouth like a ton of gum. perfumed,
vaginal gum cause they want A's in creative- writing & paul is god of judgement. "yr panties, preferably the ones you're wearing now, use the bathroom, & i guarantee an A!" he discreetly explains. briefcase by his knee,
paul flips the latches & all the soft silk pours over his bare feet. smells their pink flesh flowers in bloom, yeah, classes of artistic literary geniuses, he nods. meanwhile, white boy was knifed too closely
to a stubby kidney overnight, blood unzipped from his skin, wobbling thru albany alleys he can't find help & he's losing air fast, he's hallucinating cats are terified nurses racing away & dumpsters are cauldrons of bodies
boiling. paul hears white boy banging somewhere behind garages, figures it's cats, white boy collapses on broken glass, shards puncture his white face, life swoops off from the pool of blood like a well-fed crow.
paul notes lyn tastes absolutely luscious.

(from Buggering The American Mammal, ©1991)



THE STATE OF THE UNION

our unfurled flag is flying like a blood-clawed sheet in a thunderstorm spotlight. the constipation of the united states of america of the people, & for the people, is no protection from vivid shit. amendments by-law congressional guilt, bouncing checks for an ocean-front villa
fucking with the FCC's most innocent loop-hole. anal republican thought inside stinky think-tanks the men relish free scotch & a taste of cocaine on break, thinking of a bill to regulate american hedonism for the richest american hedonists' pleasures as kinky as shaved
lambs & lesbians who get as they're sliced. a president's exploding side of the head splatters like stew puke across the seats of a car & 30 years pass with more questions than birds bust from eggs. oh processional committees & mavericks digging at facts
produced a dead john kennedy in dallas & the general disintegration of america begin fast-speed as battlements bloom in lilac courtyards, cannons hurl black balls & brother scalps brother insanely bleeding to death in the woods for strictly historical reason. sitting-bull never broken,
but dead as dirt nonetheless.

© 1998 Ron Androla

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