Monday, November 14, 2011

cell

at the edge where the dogs hold
leashed against the bars, strain
by the membrane of sleeplessness
practice calesthentic curl-ups, void at last
shit first warm, then clammy
then cold as concrete floors


in my place the laughing devil
feints my privates, so called, I curl,
hold up a name of God, ward warden


led on a leash of lampcord, I testify
through the wires on my fingers
perform for master, tiny camerav

my guide a burning bush, wick
of the righteous, stammers and stumbles
visited upon the depraved, plausible, denial

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Crapture

someones's hitting heads
and the reverb of repetition
sets in, every other beat
feet falling into it, back beat
the end the end, come up to the front


never give a preacher, I say
never give a preacher a microphone
there's money in it
money in the microphone


and absolute money corrupts
absolutely, absolute money corrupts
there's money in it
money in the microphone


someones's hitting heads
little cabbages of money
got a world wide microphone stick
thwack, thwack thwack thwack, crapture


thwack, thwack thwack thwack, wacko
saintify, all shout at once, say saintify
the pope of the pederests, everybody say
saint pederesto protect us, thwack thwack


thwack thwack thwack, crapture



Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Nagasaki Day

Nagasaki Day

Oh, you say it's not Nagasaki Day
and you may be right
or you may not know Nagasaki Day

'cuz the Bomb didn't strike exactly
as targeted - at city center - rather burst
over a Catholic Church in a poor neighborhood
for Nagasaki there was no collateral damage
we hadn't invented the term, means to obscure death
so we can't very easily talk about Nagasaki
and besides, WE DON'T DO THAT NOW...
although we reserve the right.

we have vaults with film of Nagaroshima
color photos of puddles of skin
but in order to see them, find them,
you have to believe it's Nagasaki Day

It wasn't me, you say, that chose Nagasaki
and so I don't celebrate. I honor Hiroshima
because it was first.

Shock and Awe like Blitzkrieg
drone drops not Nagasaki
'cuz the joystick jockeys in aircon Vegas trailers
paint their death and watch it
dulled by a flickerhypno screen

maybe they're flying air Nagasaki
in a small way, you say.
there may be Collateral Damage...
The drones aren't carrying nukes

But I say every day is Nagasaki Day,
we reserve the right...

-bob phillips
8/3/2011

seedbank of shames

seedbank of shames

when the secrets spawned
'shrooms of Japan, cinder and flay

the Ministry of Terrible Shames
sent witnesses in, who filmed in technicolor the crusted streets
and dollied through shells of Church and Work
some few pausing to take a view of festering
flesh and pain stoic faces
in drop zones set for entire cities
to char the enemy; children and worshipers, combatants all

the Ministry made excuses
cut films to advertize terrible effectiveness
of Shames bombs, so they could bomb Shames again

However, they were frightening to see in color
so the Ministry of Shames marked them Top Secret
and hid them in the Archives of Shames
and suppressed other films that caused fear of Shames

even now, when power stations of Shames spew out
the Ministry protects the Bomb and Power of Shames.
even as we try to speak of it, they hide Shames
filter Shameful news...
you must know Shames are there, to find them

bob phillips
8/3/2011

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

gutter legends

gutter legends


the map of gutters marks unmentionable absence
in ranks of opening

six feet broad and 10 inches high
an entry to residence except for sudden eviction

tiny grates that clog and moss
small enough to filter butts and litter

sinkholes that drop into leached ground
tipping the surface with them

the myriad pumps that drain millenial Oglalla
subsistence sea and finish in vapor, like desert clouds

the sideways drill casings of Texas
that change running under from water to money

the caverns of Vegas with indigent paintings
watermarked with flashes and function, as it was

-bob phillips

Sunday, July 31, 2011

coyote caiparinia dance


working through the mint of scents
at the foot of rosebush cluster
yote gits a nibble of piss mint
some long dog passing psychotropes into cover
a half block further starts to come on
phantom bitch shadows saccades
prey twitch waft
rainbow haloes stars and polelights
yote circles back to that mint stand
tosses dancemint into possibles bag, might need this
whimpering fun

Coyote UrYote from Coyote Runs

coyote ur yote



from mind withdrawn
efference
epherence
ephemerence
analysed as myth a name for the tail

sit round
passing round
shares
dooby dooby
do

what I was saying
comes round again
flickers minders
flicks
a column of smoke

a song for that
round of changes
pick of regulars
bridge of tales
warm fireside and backside to cold