Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

More Evidence That I Am A Terrible Poet

I want to go up
The river.
Leave the pants;
Take the gunboat.

A farmer has found a cobalt seam
I’ll buy a suit,
And buy it for my employers.
A forward agent,
In a backwards place.
A ceiling fan place.
A barefoot place.
A good place to raise
An army.

Trade my nom de plume
For a nom du guerre,
Maybe a beret.
Maybe two.

I’ll get the natives to believe in
I’ll get the Chinese
Or the Russians
To believe in me.

Work that seam to exhaustion
–the seam, not the workers; fuck them–
While I diversify.

I want to crush the rebels:
They are massing
In the hills,
But I hold the river.

Idi Amin,
Idi Amin,
O, the things that you’ve seen,
Idi Amin.

1 Comment

  1. “A ceiling fan place”


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.