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
Somewhere.
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.

Communism.
God.
I’ll get the natives to believe in
Something.
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”

    perfect.

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