RATS

Rats said the Jess,
swatting at a passing allusion,
if things don’t improve
I’m going to cancel my subscription
to Nihilist Weekly.

Double rats said the Jess as a skinhead materiaIised
out of a pile of dogshit and
having left his sledgehammer at home,
was forced to soil his hands tearing him limb from limb.
If things don’t improve
I am going to have a great deal of difficulty
rationalising my already untenable position
with the adventurist left.

ggggrrrrrr I’m losing my touch said the Jess
as the enraged Doberman chased him up a tree.
Well he deserves everything he gets bang
and the Doberman subsides bloodily
onto the footpath….

and for my next trick I’m going to go east and walk
gingerly into a vendor of veniality,
a purveyor of perversity,
a merchant of amorality,
with all the hindsight of a burnt bridge,
I’ll explore the inner sanctums of discarded apparatus
$5678.00 is a small price to pay for the insight
of bacterial universal unconciousness.

With all due respect to no-one in particular
I’ll ignore the ignominious treatment of our emissaries and
strive for a higher level of contact with the heathen princes,
unconcerned to the point of distraction
with menial issueings forth from whence their came.

Bite your bum said the Jess for the tenth time,
boring even himself now and wishing a new stream of
expletives would sally majestically forth from the rotten
suppurating cavity that was once his mouth
in times less concerned with who and what
was seen up who while paying the rent.

Once while sitting peacefully in the gutter I was accosted
by  a man who claimed that in good time all would bear
the mark of the beast imprinted on the right hand
or the forehead
but in anticipation he said a prayer to George W. Bush
and ceremoniously slashed a dogs wrists as a substitute
sacrifice intended to maim and destroy the heathen beasts
of modernity and antiquity

comest thou oh sucker daily of
dogs dicks and sundry delicacies
from the south of Madagascar.
I came with powerful vengeance slaying,
maiming and generally boring the tits off all in my path,
so recently hewn from the virgin stone
of comic strips.

monthly undergone powerful yearnings
of diabolic nature understood only as an indication
of things might once have been considered
now again untenable in the light  recent atrocities
carried out under the guidance of
America’s enemy addiction.

So then again we might once have understood
but now the knowledge is deeply buried under a layer
of semi-porous micromatter imported
from the south of France in large kegs
designed to crack on impact spewing their dubious contents
noxiously on the porters and carriers
enslaved by dark yearnings
long forgotten under the mists and dews of outback parities.

Oh come and come again and again at once I say
spewing your own contents
sliding viscously into deep vats for collection and
conversion into things unspeakably potentiated

from there and here and again and again I say
I demand no less from the vassals of reason
for doing anything at all that could be considered worthy
Of the talents of a band of dedicated young idealists bent on
mayhem unwritten and powers unspoken
except in dark alleys
Where rats run in fear
from raven red glowing
eyes arseholes connected
in ways you wouldn’t want to think about without a friend
to buffer collisions of sensibility in dark alleys
with awful rats and glowing eye connected arseholes.

Think of the possibilities I implore but you don’t listen,
you have no need and I to ask much more than this
which is just to say a little now and then
When it seems appropriate.