and one day I will
then no more art will confront you
when I will be still...
Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.
Monday, November 7, 2011
oh how I miss the strippers
the drunken nights of lechery and mental dislocation
the altered states of awareness
the cold dawns at early coffee shops
after a night of debauchery
now all of it could put me in sick bay
in an instant
now all of it would even kill me outright
age hobbles us
then takes away our crutches
and any wistful envy of the young
is mitigated knowing
they also will come to this decay
some day...
Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.
Jack the cat is dead
lost at JFK getting free of his fatal baggage
and wandering the terminal for 61 days
until a plunge through a roof
gave him wounds from which he could not recovery
God damn American Airlines
who ran the 'Airbus' that crashed
on Belle Harbor two months after 9/11
and God Damn their 'condolences'
and the imbeciles at Kennedy International
the brain-dead ex-cons
who's second chance is to land a gig
where they could care less about the job they are doing
and frisk young women and old ladies
at security checkpoints
and let animals go because they're just animals
and what do they matter?
God Damn this whole earthly systems
breeding human monsters
the drones and their savage bosses
who think they are God's representatives on earth
or who don't believe there's a God at all
all the filthy power-madness that passes for human desire
and rules this world continuously to its fatal ends
God Damn all these little tyrants
and God Bless poor little Jack
who's last days must have been a bewilderment
few of us could have sustained
we all are Jack the Cat
and we all are looking for that clearance to lift free
of the runway and leave this miserable world
which is also the suspect design of the Perfect One
Jack the Cat's turd is worth more
than the whole stinking enterprise
and we envy him the ending of his misery
may he find and play with my buddies William
and Mammi in that heaven of animals Dickey wrote about
even there faithful to the human spirit
that showed him the love the World could not muster
Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
screaming days that turn out fine in the end
high intensity fretting that rips holes in the heart
pounding blood making pulsating brain
splatter in its pan and onto skull walls
for no damn good reason
attend me now then be gone
over-reactions of blunt disappointment
cursing the clanking gears of the moment for being
the clanking gears of the moment...
Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.
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