Saturday, March 17, 2012

Daytona 5000

Charlie's "Hot Rod" roared and ripped 
the face off father's big bad skull.
Now skulking faceless father walks
the dull dark track in bone black night,
fire water veins and fist fight urge,
a prolonged vomit, a bloody bout,
a wild moon and high speed life:
 a savage road rash sacrifice.

The Pubic Waking

The Monday after
that first stroke,
I stroked again
and made mad love
to the Frankfurt Boys,
a local band.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Cocteau

The last thing Jacques Cocteau smelled
was freshly mown grass;
he'dn't known he'd
die on a golf course.


But I did.
Because I killed him.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Lordy!

Lordy took a stroll on Tues
'round piccadilly square.
Thrice he saw the creepling man,
and twice he didn't care.

But on the third he stopped,
(his passions all aflame).
For there there stood the creepling man
flashing all his shame.

Lordy took a sneakling peek
at the absent trouser-door.
I say it only sneakling
'cause he promptly hit the floor.

The street-performing robot
had whizzed and buzzed about.
When shame flashed at his metal face,
his buzz became a shout!

"Get him!" Cried the Bobbies.
My eyes!" Cried the Fruit.
"Can no one save our ruined souls
from this exhibitionary brute?!"

Up arose good Lordy
from his shame-inducéd trance.
Sore but not downtrodden,
he started his advance.

The creepling saw him coming!
They traded blow for blow!
"He knows my every move so well!
This shame-exposing foe..."

All the gods were watching.
The crowd discharged their jeers.
Lordy'd never fought like this
in all his earthly years!

The creepling stood there dangling.
Lordy'd had enough!
"Let's end this once for all!" he yelled,
"Show me your stuff!"

The creepling man pulled off his skin.
T'was a sight like none no other!
'Fore Lordy stood a maiden fair.
And that's how he met your mother.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Return Of The Repressed

Melanie fears skeletons,
but most of all,
perverts.

Melanie saw pictures
of an orangutan's bone
structure in dad's “creep”
book, but more disturbing,

that pervert's portrait
on the secret “extra”
page, signed,

Daniel “Pervert” Brown.

I Made You Dinner

Refried pork fried rice:
a terrifying mélange
of Chinese manhood
in sweet home momma's
microwave oven.

Eleven heavy oxen couldn't pull
my weight, from here
to Mississippi, never mind
those pubescent apes,
grandkids.

“I'll save everybody a bite,”
is what I've never had the nerve
nor gusto to speak, easy over
and out the doggy door
to Mr. Mittens, that irreverent

Masterbator.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Chief Roswell

Chief Roswell flew last night,
While the lesser humans slept.
He flew like a rocket ghost,
Over the stars, and came crashing
Through your bedroom window,
Touting the merits of a well-groomed orifice.
I shot up disgusted - “Begone!”
A man’s got to sleep.