Sunday 12 December 2010

looking for a leader

we're looking for a leader
one who knows the difference
between good mussels
and mediocre mussels,

a man who knows his sophistry
can pen a piece as far away
from the actual experience
as it's possible to be.

he woke up today
and swore he'd complete
his tour-de-force
his masterpiece.

but art can't
and won't grow
where beer is
seventeen euros a go.

i asked him
why he paints
and his response is:

for a house with rotting columns
and a bust of ME in your office.

but the handwriting was too steady.
the turn of phrase too stable.

you gotta scribble faster than you can think
force it out through your fingertips and make
your mal-au-tette your raison d'etre maybe
learn to write like an impressionist might

delivering more beauty more efficiently.
the throb in your noggin:the reason to be.

it's another must-watch, another must-see.

but once you've seen one sculpture, you've seen em all, haven't ya?

yes you have.

the lynching

i fashioned myself as a rationalist
but even i cannot reason with grief and seasonal flu.

my king always striving to deny me
a day off where i don't feel guilty.

if our sad little grotto had a motto it would be,
"it's not good...it's taking liberties".

i strain to understand the alge-brain
as he mutters "for fucks sake" at my
umpteenth bathroom break.

you can tell a storms-a-brewing
when he cocks his head..and he asks how you doing.

it was spoken like a true rogue
who's stricken with trickledown megalomania.

on my return they said "how are you doing?"
i said "i am the yellow leaf over a storm drain bubbling."

between painted breezeblock walls you either swagger or you can crawl.

a job well done is no longer enough,
you must eliminate yourself and prove your love.

operation nowhere is now a no-go is now a-go-go.
offer your wife and kids to the logo.

he strides into the alcove
and demands a bottle
of the tears of aristotle.

you may not be plato but
you are not playdoh you are men.
you are not playdoh you are men.