Something about the
Destruction of entire
Cities turns me on.
Makes me feel sexy.
Thin legs in fire-
Bombed stockings
Small breasts fill
Total war tank-tops
Wrists like shrapnel
Screaming "Touch me
Touch me please
Herald of blight
And sexual disease!"
It Feels good to
See the dead and dying on
Comcast TV
Cause we, as better people,
Are not them and
It is great to know we have
A brilliant
Future filled with colleges
And health food and
Being green with politics
That don’t mean shit
For the rest of the planet.
Like the prospect
Of a bourgeois trust fund these
Thoughts turn me on
And get me hard while I with-
Drawal from bank
Accounts bending down to take
My receipt so
Lets believe in ourselves lets
Keep spending
On oil and war and stunted
Economies
That could care less about us
As beings but
Dig the deep pockets on our
Blue Levi jeans
Yeah, let’s do it Baby!
Let’s live the dream
We both grew up
Believing in...
Intangible things
Debt free with pickets
Fever white and lawns
Mowed vomit green
Lets make love
Craters, Lemon
Lets make
Catastrophe.
2 comments:
Something about this poem screams sexual revolution. I don't know why, but I feel like it is missing pronouns. This isn't in reference to the first's stanza's fragment "Makes me feel sexy," because that bit is hilarious and has an amazingly casual interjectional way about it. This is more in reference to:
"Cause we, as better culture,
Are not them and..."
as "a" better culture?
and
"Being green along politics
That don’t mean shit
For the rest of the planet."
along "with"? alongside?
Seems like small stuff, but I got caught up in them. Otherwise, really top form, as usual. Revolutionary and sexual, like two people fucking will somehow begin the slow burn of order and hypocrisy. I especially liked the fourth and fifth stanzas. "It is great to know we have a brilliant future filled with colleges and health food..."
makes me want to have sex with you.
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