BRASS HATS

Coming day beaming
prance prance devolution
“showing itself as a self-
sent herald” an exact
replica of the billboard
proclaiming coming naught
what abuncha vegan mess on the night shift
federation of melancholy machinists
moist at the arbitration proceedings
corking mink in the mudroom
finger on the cowbell unawares
for I am vested
for my sins
my capacity to turn
the living to dead
a collective phenomenon
suffered individually
on account of the unkempt
case of my bodily
part in watery alliance
with flipping and spreading
& enjoining without ever being
satiated or easy-going
Call me Ho-Ho
collapse is inscribed
you in your linen robe
me in my silvery cloak
all the statues of the city
decked out in stocking caps
the President waves
the Jeweler also waves
Pretty Ricky
Seimone Augustus
& swoop in particular
“as water loves air”
eagerly among the ambiguous
logo tatted on my going away part
no extra charge for the stinger

VOCATION & INDUSTRY

Smacking the board
Face full of fronts
To get out from under
The cult of personality
Commas, those fuckers, they ruin everything
Patience, understanding, even
Vera's cracking croon
We shall have to bleed her
That'll be a dollar for the cup of milk
& a free glob of hot exhaust
For the little lady
Give me the names of several good accountants
Fix firmly the existing
Pivot point
Cut up the back of her nightgown
& keep the nameless little gremlins in a tote
Please to call it a wound, sir, and not a scar

I call Mark daily
He has no information
We build a relationship
Between the if and when
The stain or meaning
But not both
Zipper told me come
Niner told me stay
The King is people
& the cops is cantering
According to the arc of succumbing
Biting the pillow
Repatriates the body
The meaty curve
Warms as you chew
Men of their age
Clean the eggs
No more queasy mistresses
No more flapping red birds
Get your wallet out, it's egg cream time
Saga go viral
Saga go dumb
AlphaBeta bumps Young Turks
Weepy bloom kaput