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Holy poop this gal's voice is angelic. Nice tune.
Of Interest: Trout Fishing
3 years ago





Oh yes my friend, I've been there: the insects battering at
the armored lids of your yellowish eyes
the moment you pecked your way out of that rotten shell
and dug out from your sandpit nest.....
And I've experienced the thud thud thud of your days,
the indigestible monotony
of everything's spiny orangy-green husk. How the sun
gets daily whiter and hotter and just
a little bit closer. The week spent gobbling down your
own weight's worth of whatever. One stumpy
footprint after another, tracking the trackless, squelching
across last night's marsh into a volcano-spattered today
hip-deep in ash and yawning
a muzzleful of sulfur. Swishing through stiff fronds,
we drag an unbearable load of tombstones on our back
and a fat lugubrious tail, shit-smutched and
spiked. The flattening of the razor grass. The forgotten
clutch of eggs. Our shrill yaps
and groans. That tiny gray walnut
for a brain and the fat black tongue tough as a bootsole.....
They've explained us away a dozen times: some passing
meteorite or another, the rat-like mammals
eating our pitiful young, all kinds
of new weather. Issueless, but far too stupid to be forlorn,
we trundle along the pink quartz shore
to sip at the lukewarm edge of yet another evaporating sea.
Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you're tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They'll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.
Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren't alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren't alone. Go to sleep.
Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night, so
Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
and
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down.
stooped behind a guarded wall
I watch the world devoured
and consider the nutritional value
and taste of brains
modified by the stuff
packed inside
that kid I’m watching there:
his head ripped off
had brains so sweet
(lobes of confectioners sugar)
filled with cartoons or video games
Nothing good is contained inside
so the undead search on
with his saccharine taste
dripping from their lips
my voyeuristic glances
unearth a fantasy draft interrupted
by flesh-eating hordes
in search of tonight’s fix
They end up disappointed
by lack of sustenance and flavor
suddenly it dawns on me
that the apocalypse will
be short-lived
since those brains filled
with Mieville and Le Guin
number few among the living
Far more are the brains
filled with rubbish
and artificial sweetener
They will never sustain a
starving mass plagued
with decomposition
so I plan to wait it out
For if zombies survive
on the nutritional value of brains
it won’t be long before they
expire of malnutrition
in the deserted streets last night
the Aliens pointed their laser
and equipment at me
and one of them said:
“Take me to your Leader.”
And hoping to pocket
all the presents
they might have brought
I said:
“Well, I am the Leader
of all Planet Earth.”
And the Aliens
conferred awhile
(as I waited in anticipation
of the presents they might pull out for me)
and one of them turned to me
and the gender-negative Creature said:
“Hail, Leader of All Planet Earth!
Our Intelligence Measurement Devices
give a Low Life Form reading on you;
and so we can deduce
what even Lower Life Forms you must lead” –
and then this gender-negative Creature
turned to the other Aliens and declared:
“Lets’ go. This planet’s not worth our time.”
And thus did I save the Earth
though I wish, at least, those Aliens
had left me some presents for my trouble…