Saturday, April 19, 2014

But the pickles and brie fill my life with ennui

Anapaesto Sauce

If you see, on TV,
Someone looking like me
Who can cook for a fee:
Never guess that the spree
Of the pesto must be
Any less than the glee
Of my new fricassee.
But the pickles and brie
Fill my life with ennui
And I wish I could flee
From the studio, free.

-- Saturday, April 19, 2014.

Wracked with needs, less than weeds, lacking a table knife

Teratodactyls

Carry me back to my girlfriend in Ottawa
Where she rejected my scabies and scrofula,
Rabies and rickets and urge to lick cricket feet.
Tell her I brush my teeth after each slug I eat.
Dinner is waiting for me in the septic tank
But I need loving to wake me and turn my crank!
After all, what is man, but a low form of life,
Wracked with needs, less than weeds, lacking a table knife?
Call me a masterpiece mired in deep fallacies,
Call me a giant who stoops for analyses
Fit best for fungi or viruses on a slide --
Call me whatever you want but respect my pride.
Carry me back to my girlfriend in Ottawa
Where she last saw me and suddenly thought of a
Much better life that was looming in front of her.
Carry me back, and I'll blaze up like Lucifer.

-- Saturday, April 19, 2014.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

An Essential Part of Every Balanced Diet

Abomination Corn
(A First of April Sonnet)

The earth excretes monstrosities by night
But flinches from atrocities by day;
The orchards that disgorge a striding blight
From bursting fruit, then hang leaves in dismay.
The waving autumn calm of that green field
Conceals nocturnal bursts of monsters born
When surging swollen plants exceed their yield
And vomit forth abomination corn.

These leaping tumours of a placid world!
Such leering, scything terrors of the mud!
Why do they stalk with harvest moons unfurled,
And shriek from every ruptured garden bud?
It seems the bounty we consider food
Has undergone a sudden change of mood.

-- Tuesday, July 17, 2012.

Monday, March 31, 2014

But Doctor, you can't be serious!

The Monster Test
(A First of April Sonnet)

Abomination serum in a chest,
Gleaming urns of plasma, row on row,
Rubied vials of reptile genes -- I know
That I am ready for the monster test.
To synthesize and carve shall call for skill,
And vaults of courage that my heart commands;
My chemistry, designed to curse and kill
Shall bring forth nightmares into sleeping lands.

The generations of my rancid brain
Shall make the world a charnel house by night;
My legacy of acid-spewing pain
Shall scar the human species into fright.
Prepare then, for a carnival of hate!
And maybe then you'll ask me for a date.

-- Tuesday, April 1, 2014.

On the First Day of April, My True Love Sent to Me

Experimental Decadence
(A First of April Sonnet)

Reptilian and blunt, the jaws erupt
From depths within the crystal of the sphere:
By sunset, we shall all be horror-supped
And steeped within the wine of primal fear.
Experiment successful! We shall bleed,
Torn apart by talons of the beast:
The raging mutant product of our need,
Created for the carnage and the feast.


Prepare now, give the syntho-reptile room.
Unroll the carpet, soon to gleam with red --
The banner of our greeting and our doom,
For once the form emerges, we are dead.
But wait! What is this wanton trickery,
This gemlike serpent woman that we see?

-- Tuesday, April 1, 2014.