Musings of the Reverend Meduri and Dr. Jackass
Experimentations in Literary Groin Punches
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
  A Two-Choice Only Rhyme Scheme
where the pulpit pretends its mouthpiece can reach
is just one of many places it shouldn’t preach
the great gray ghost out hunting for souls
while the pigeons and the murderers count their toes
tagged for immediate delivery for cold earthy hills
just to make so many more disposable dispensable dollar bills.
drag the aura over liberty’s head
let her silly fat belly make uncle sag, sigh and dead
but wait for the show, the one with the tail
that drags through the sand leaving snakey scales
with spoonful spaghetti and pax marinara
we’ll eat our own votes on papers blotched with mascara
we’ll check the wrong flights for the wrong kinda people
and shoot at the wind because it sounds quite evil
we’ll drip from the cracks the bad water from our lake
until the cracks creak and the foundation aches
we’ll shuffle in short order the draft cards and mortars
so we can take on the Ace in a show of hot water
the ace of spades! The ace of spades in a bind?
the kurds found him and sold him for the rest of kurd-kind
back at home in the burbs mothers drink some red wine
while their Mexican maid weeps for her kind
for her son is in the desert standing up for a right of passage
to make sure suburban kids don’t have to get the message
the murder, the hell it is to defend your life
your god your country and your pregnant 19 year old wife
and what about those “inner city” folk
who eat on stamps and puff the Newports’ smoke
they’ve already taken the message to heart
blow the top off the charts
or the tops off they heads
either way you carry guns so as not to be dead
and for all the other dictator squatters
and terrorist sons and daughters
despite the 60’s and our best intentions
we now have a media designed to silence dissention
so now you got two choices to make like all the rest
saddle up with us on the good or get shot by the best.

rev. m
 
  Exercise in Politics Diplomacy Regicide and Amnesty
Dig down under the rough side of carpet step on the other side stick
Gum under chewing floor below wooden legs and false bottoms.
Mouth off the written word give meter stick to dreamy gaze lick
Hearts south of getting there dropping ticker tapes and gay malaise.
Grip swimmingly the breast bowl smothered killing me dicking me kick
Teeth on the clit wearing beads squishing pomade and a rusty broom.


the blurbs of the prophets are written for the shopping malls
where the diseased luridly pose for kitten calls
the kings of the silent die fulfilled with disgust—
when slutterella swoons we watch with lust
the micro is engorged, the macro enflamed;
the stirrer too thin for the sludge brewed home made
the mystery is why we wade so gently in the gloom
as if afraid our moves will bring about our doom.


WReSTLe WHiSTLe WaTeR THiSTLe HaSSLe WRaSTLe WHeRe You NeSTLe NeeDLe NuDGeR ReCoRD oF HeR SCRaTCHiNG SCRaPiNG SKiPPiNG SToPPiNG SaSSiNG PuSHiNG GRiPPiNG PuLLiNG GRoPiNG SuCKiNG SLiPPiNG LiPPiNG LiCKiNG LiKiNG LuLLiNG FaLLiNG FaiLiNG CaLLiNG CaRiNG CaReSSiNG CaLLiNG CaLLiNG CaTCHiNG HeaTeD HaTeD HeaRTy HuNGRy DeaTH DeaLiNG DiaMoND STeaLiNG DoLLaR DRiPPiNG MeRCHaNT MeNaCe MaCHiNe MoTHeR KiLLeR KoRNeR KaLLiNG KaLLiNG KaLLiNG ReaDy ReSPeCT aLReaDy ReSPoND aLReaDy ReTRaCT ReToRT RePLy aLReaDy iS iT SLoW aND STeaDy oR HiGH aND HeaDy Do We FeeL THe RooM Do We HeaL iT aLL SooN?

white men walk in the early hours in breakfast cars
suckling marmalade and sniffing chocolate bars
they eat rasptastic toasty goods made knife in hand
downing the stock exchange and phoning on rubber bands
brush away from this car and trace the atmosphere
dripping freedom sweat and smelling domestic beer
working men wake in the dead of the night
pummeling dragons and swallowing right
the fires stoke with their story’s coal
consuming mother ipso facto and drowning in the shoal
old men in the boiler room,
how many more stops ‘til we’re cut from the loom?


rev. m
 
Monday, July 12, 2004
  Love it
“To announce that there must be no criticism of the president, or that we are to stand by the president, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public.”
– Theodore Roosevelt, 1918
 
Home place with writes from guys both one Meduri Preacher. Two healer of Donkies. E-mail drjackass@gmail.com with question.

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