Dark Ages
after sixteen continuous weeks
of unavoidable joy
as a result of the last power failure
it certainly was a relief
to arrive home
and find nightrider cops
parked on the welcome mat
sensuously frisking my wife
wordlessly demanding ID of me
while grey fedora FBI agents
carefully picked their way
through putrid mounds
of used Boyardee cans
decayed mackerel heads
crumpled drafts of an epic haiku
and a letter from the New Yorker
gracefully declining to print
my poem
Dancing Pandas In Central Park
agents and officers
with iron faces and unblinking eyes
noted carefully as my Siamese
who had just been telepathically interrogated
by a fat man with missing upper incisors
rubbed conspiratorially against my leg
to let me know
that I had better say nothing
about the relatives we kept
locked in attic trunks
because earlier in the day
soon after the generators had been repaired
both truth and lies were declared
punishable by death
Purple Ducks
Long square quiet hallways
are invaded by Purple Ducks
with sheaves of paper
bulging black briefcases
microphones in silk socks
and lidless eyes that scan
ceaselessly for enemies
as the Ducks waddle
from phone to phone
and rattle guttural numbers
build electronic pyramids
direct machine armies
on land, over sea, in the air,
while in sleazy slums
above the new
subterranean
World Tirade Triple Tower
(earth’s new axis)
credos are crammed into craniums
bred not to resist
and teams are trained to consume
more than can be produced
and all are eye- and ear-fed en masse
according to the master plan
massive doses of sadomasochistic
vicarious experience
all equal
created for men and women alike
made to massage brains
into lumps of edible
recyclable gray goop
boiled, fried, or cured in blood,
no artificial preservatives added
naturally delicious
available almost everywhere
famous Purple Duck brand
no individual servings
because all are linked
elbow through elbow
in a long chain of existence
from the lowest to the highest
being evolution created
by Purple Ducks
for Purple Ducks
so they can spit numbers
flash disasters on vidiscreens
smile broadly with confidence
(never filmed or interviewed)
send dodos to track down
the occasional loon
grow quite obese
lose their feathers
reveal purple duck skin
develop enormous capacities
for wakefulness in times of crisis
and insatiable appetites
for death
of others.
From:
how I spent starless nights
and stainless days
dealing death
from the bottom of the deck
Paperback available here
https://amzn.eu/d/ejsFAc9