Last Poems–Outsider Art

monkeys press distorted faces

against stained glass windows

itchy vibrations climb from linoleum

and squirt like lizards’ tongues

across the unborn thighs of the twenty-first century

empty bottles everywhere: the drugstore is closed

pull the binds! turn up the music!

choke the screaming night with 100 watts

capitalize the T in technology

until it turns into a cross

nail my existence to it

like a faded ticket to the latest crucifixion

call it predestination or divine will

watch the hero piss in the dusty crossroads

village idiots fight to float their boats

around shrinking islands of logic

suicidal cowboys are eager to pull nuclear strings

let the loaded dice roll down the parabolic edge

saviors wait for high noon in the hollywood hills

reading sanskrit translations of playboy

mechanical students bounce out of school

crawl apelike into melancholy shopping malls

mad poets throw stones at the moon

nobody sees the ones that hit

through the veil of falling objects