The Body Poetic Continued: A Poem Should Be (14)

1. 

Persevering 
As all get out— 
And badass through
And through,
Like that sleek black 
Crow on the back of that 
Nonchalant white 
Ewe, plucking away 
At her sullied, 
Ragged fleece. 

2. 

In lieu of maggots, dear 
Reader, a tireless natural 
Born killer of life- 
Threatening blood- 
Sucking fleas and ticks 
Infesting the body 
Poetic, too. 

From Life In These United States: Tomorrow's Hollow

Hopes and prayers 
Promise to be 

So momentous I think 
Another moment 

Of judicious mind- 
Numbing 

Silence is not altogether un-
Called for today.

Ultimate Fallacious Pathetic Death Rattle

What a tragedy! 

Your indentured mouth- 
Piece now lies supine 
On the polished beech- 

Wood floor beside you, 
Clacking inaudible spittle about 
Your many splendid feats, 

Though all you can make out 
Over the discombobulating 
Clicking at this late date is just 

Come clean, I’d like to see you pick yourself up 
This time round and try once more 
To lie through false teeth. 

Bear With Us, Mother Earth

Mortals, 
If not for this dreadful 
Vainglorious arrogance of ours 
Towards every living thing 
That makes us dead to the world, 
How could we suffer to live here? 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Why Odoriferous Gossip Nurtures Us

They say you should 
Never believe your eyes, 
But if your ears were more 

Plausible as cauliflowers, 
I bet you would 
Eat your stinking hearts out. 


Moderator’s comments: Might perhaps the reason behind Huuk’s long hiatus be because he’s been feeling boxed in by conventional standards of behavior, especially those dealing with politically correct/incorrect olfactory reactions to unsavory issues that have always been so close to his heart? Now that that rather hard to swallow problem looks somewhat resolved by this poem, I hope he's at peace with himself and has finally decided to let John Q. Public go to hell in a handcart driven by a host of crazed grotesques.

Huh?

Now that you mention it, 
Most of the time 
You’re never listening, 

And even when you are, 
You’re always talking 
To yourself. 

Faulty Global Positioning Device Gone Round The Bend

Something tells me they know nothing 
Of what I am looking for—it’s plain 
As the look on their faces: 

Nothing tells them 
They are looking 
In the wrong places.