Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: poetry (page 2 of 7)

A Terrible Poem About A Terrible Man

Imagine he were brilliant

What if his resume were as long as his tie?

Handsomer than JFK
Wiser than FDR
And a bigger dick than LBJ

Imagine he made you feel safe

Even if he was
He’d still be a fucking traitor.

A Terrible Poem About Several Buses

Hoist the flag
Any one
(Well, not some)
And we will let the road wave it for us

One of you needs to learn how to double-clutch
It’s not fair I do all the driving
I don’t wanna be Neal Cassady
Not all the time
You’ve been promising you would for three tours, Moochie
Not cool, Moochie

The shows are islands
And the roads are lava
Hop from safety to safety
See as much of America as you can
Without America seeing you
Drive casual.

Kelly has that sheet
She’ll be in Cincinnati
There’s no Cincinnati show
Somewhere in Ohio
It would work itself out
The world is enormous but the lot is small

Don’t pick at it
I know
I know
Don’t pick at it

Metal doesn’t glue together
Screws and nails don’t work
Rivets are good
A weld is the best
Because that makes two things one
The temperature of the torch is dependent
Iron at this heat
Steel at that
But the angle of the torch?

A Terrible Poem, But Short

Let your last breath be
“I love you”
“Fuck you”
Anything else is a waste

A Terrible Poem About A Manger


Do you have a place for us?
A clean dry place
(We’ll settle for dry)
And maybe somewhere to charge our phones

It’s not too many
Just the bass players
And unpublished poets
And the hitchhikers and the drivers that stop for them
Insomniacs and failed astronauts
Obsessives with poor short-term memory
And lapsed romantics in between heartbreaks
People who used to be junkies
And junkies who used to be people
They’re with me
They’re cool
Is there a place for us?

What about just me?
And my wife
She is with child
Do you have a place for us?

A Terrible Poem About Compromise

You can’t spell “elite”
Without “latte”
Spelling’s for bees
I’m a hard-working American

What did facts ever do for us?
Where has competence gotten us?
We’ve tried being reasonable
Let’s ask the phrenologists
Poll the alienists
Maybe Twitter has some ideas
We should deputize the comment section

I say we burn it down

“So, you’re an arsonist?”

Excuse me?
How dare you call me that?
Don’t be a bigot
And accept my opinion
Which is as good as yours
And is that we should burn it all

“That’s arson
Advocacy of which makes you an arsonist”

Don’t put words in my mouth
I never said we should burn anything down
What I said is that we should burn everything down
Fuck your intolerance
You’re the arsonist

Besides: you made me do it
I wouldn’t have burned it all down
But then you said I was going to burn it all down
Just because I said I was going to burn it all down

Don’t be a bully
That’s the worst thing you can be
The worst thing in the world
Do you have a lighter?

A Terrible Poem About Time

Time is a rapist
Doing it just to you
Time is a sadist
Doing it just to you

Time is a one-trick pony
Not so fast in the stretch
She’ll throw you in the corners
Time is a one-trick pony
You only need one trick if it’s a good one

A Terrible Poem, Thankfully Short

Neither you
Nor I
Will ever know
How much I love you

A Terrible Poem About A Moment


If there are sinners
Let them sin
If there are spinners
Let them spin

And music
And music
Overwhelms the clocks and calendars
And step-down transformers
For the cleanest power

There is a foreign word for this moment

Run round the loge
Concourse, Massachusetts
He should have talked to her
And will remember her for the rest of his life

A Terrible Poem About Rose Bushes

Put the giraffes in gas masks
They’ll be safe
From the rose bushes
Who are up to no good
And have chemical weapons

The cameras are in the sun now
Hold your phone so it can’t see the screen
Your waiter is one of them
Ask for a proxy server
And new water
The one you have been brought was poisoned
Possibly by the rose bushes

When silence equals consent
Then consent equals violence

Why is that man taking notes?
Why are those notes taking pictures?
I did not agree to these terms

A Terrible Poem About A Backstop


You think you have rights
You are adorable
And I love you

Point to them
Show them to me
Maybe you left them in the car
Maybe you set your rights down
In the freezer
Next to the banana guacamole
Go check
I’ll wait
And I love you

You have needs
And then there is what the bastards allow
And what they don’t

You have rights like you have
Names like you have
Religions like you have
Passports like you have
Somebody wrote something down and you believed it

You have needs
And there is what the bastards will allow
And what they will not

You have one power
But small

Fuck you

Fingernails and families
Can be removed
Fuck you
Can only be given
And a middle finger can burn like a candle in the darkness

You think you have rights
You have needs
Fuck you
And then there is what the bastards will allow
And what they will not

And I love you

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