Marmosets In The Rain
The basement of my soul is flooded --B.P. McWilliams
Untitled
--B.P. McWilliams
For Anna
--B.P. McWilliams
JABBERAZZI
'Twas presstime, and the KatieTom He took his kodachrome in hand And as on vespa he arrive One two, one two and through and through "And hast thou snapped the ParisHilt? Beware the ParisHilt, my son
'Twas presstime, and the KatieTom
--B.P. McWilliams
With the bongwater of the gods.
My dreams are ravaged
By fears of time, and silence,
And undead zombie Mister Rogers.
Ideas squeal their displeasure
Pelted with the light of reason
Like marmosets in the rain.
Sense returns; logic blinks its bleary eyes.
My medication has worn off.
Bursting with the refried beans of angry virtue.
I wield my chainsaw of righteousness
Against the rabid otters of ineptitude
And wrangle the thrashing electric eels of retarded fury
With the oven mitts of wisdom.
The windswept mountaintop of greatness beckons me
Like some great beckoning thing.
After long fruitless years of searching
Thru the dusty bulk food bins of my soul
At long last my hunt has been rewarded
With the tasty milkdud of oneness.
Now, having exploded my soul burrito
In Nirvana's white hot microwave
I collapse, exhausted.
For that was a hell of a thing.
Without whom there would be no Anna
Has dragged its itching rear end
Across the carpet of my heart.
My love burns for you
Like Richard Pryor.
Nothing can take you from my reach
Not time,
Not sorrow,
Not distance.
Maybe evil robots.
And yet you reject me.
Your scorn bursts my heart
Like a garbage bag full of chili
Thrown from a tenement roof.
You seem to want me gone.
Your callous laughter
Your cold eyes
Your restraining orders
All seem to say so.
Yet I am with you even now
At all times
Even when you dream.
I am not alone.
It seems there are rats
In your attic.
Did preen and giggle with its babe
All bickery was the BranJolie
And the CamDiaz drew rave.
The empty fame, the party trash
Beware the LindsayLo and shun
The publicized Britneysnatch.
Longtime the irksome whore he sought
To published be in a magazee
That the soccermamas bought.
The ParisHilt with cards aflame
Came twinkling down rodeodrive
That'sHotting as she came.
The shutter black went snickersnack
He ditched the stores and checkbook whores
And went starbucking back.
Come to our pages, kodak boy!
Such glam'rous rot - a grand a shot!"
He backslapped in his joy.
The empty fame, the party trash
Beware the LindsayLo and shun
The publicized Britneysnatch.
Did preen and giggle with its babe
All bickery was the BranJolie
And the CamDiaz drew rave.