A dribble of inadequate doubts
I've slacked into the ol' wood...
Seen it all here and gone in a blaze of monstrous white fire!...
Maybe you know what I mean, but it's beyond my earthly grasp...
I took a tumble in Ms. bubble butts privates, and then lost my hand in poker...
You might think I'm a fuck twit,
Or a baboon who's just been twice shaved...
More likely then not you don't give a royal shit...
Human beings are all uniquely up their own asses so deep that it hurts...
We scream for help for no other reason but to let a fart escape in public!...
There should be more thought to our blind outbursts...
I get it though, we're raised in aquariums so this kind of depth is not easily learned,
but the 1st step is to be a better listener...
Try is sometime, and you may not feel so lost and shivering to the countless masses...
We all need a little love...
The more we care, the more we let our guards down, and see the shining gifts abound!...
Not so fucking hard to figure out.
---Slack.
A modicum of sympathy
In the blink of a Motherfucking eye
You see in
to great chasms of depths
of your own back-side, (your foolish pride?)
as you wonder
like a wounded plundered Panda
if what falls to pieces (crash!)
may also be super-glued back together again...
...Ah, but the play is much more tragic
than what you had hid up your Magic Sleeve...
Or is it really a true tear-jerker?...
Fuck your open nostril,
I want to know because I feel the murk and mud
of the swamp on my chilled and defunct heels...
Sweat on my browning brow...
Seconds to heal this swollen sore of seeming nothing,
when others need their borrowing(burrowing?) of minutes
then you'd refuse to lend...
Take it with you...
Down the cup,
before the race has ended...
The choice is yours,
the blade descending
like a fallen star of futility.
8/7/20
Constipation (Asshole Blues)
Clench my fist, and squeeze my
throbbing sphincter
until a bit of brown starts crowning...
...That’s as it should be,
though if I’d grant an entry;
(an operative tincture)
of the color red upon my brow
while I sit squirming, spitting mad
on my ivory throne, alone,
and without mercy,
I will undoubtedly disclose
the deepest of all treasured secrets
for one pitiful release
as if the KGB were on my case
with bolts and screws,
torturing my wrecked body
for a view inside the enemies
encampment...
If only I could flux,
or finally shit upon command!...
There’s nothing up my butt,
or sleeve...
No trick hid within these hands!...
Bleeding out from my pores,
I seep like gas in some old lot...
Farting hot just like a furnace
that might die from one more shot.
This constipation kills,
and when no pill can clear my gut
I’ll beg to suck two loaded barrels
just so at long last I'll be cut...
...and then, right as rain
sweat pours down,
agonized, I grip the sink
and bang both knees
together in erotic bliss
as I make my filthy stink!...
...At last I’ve dropped a Hershey Kiss!
I jump up in idiot glee
to view the doo that freed my weight...
I glance down, and sadly see
it’s just my heart
dying in a heaving mess...
...Jeeeesus Christ!...
Put to the test
just to be duped!...
I’ve crapped a precious piece of me
that will be missed so very soon
as I topple over on the bathroom tiles,
and swiftly die a wretched death...
...My struggle all for nothing!...
These Asshole Blues
bring sting
just like a theft
elicits vibes of violation,
like my ass was rented out...
Fuck these Blues!...
I need a breather!...
Tell me when I can crap out!
©
Bunny Villaire
(Edit #4)
3/26/20
Tjung-gra
Have any of you heard of the great Aboriginal artist
George Tjung-gra
who dissolves like sands of the hour glass
into the retina of the mind's eye, and then
transfigures a miracle at the base of the mid spine
within a mere matter of mortal seconds?...
I first became aware of his most holy of presences
when I treked the rock shelters at Madjedbebe
of Nauwalabila.
My third eye opened as he winked into my conciousness,
and that was all I needed...
I instantly converted to his art cult that required constant awareness
and 24 hour attention to all of the pop art sensationalism that was he
which begs a person give up all earthly belongings and jump aboard the
Tjung-gra train for an 7 easy payments of 5,000 and 34 hundred dollars
every new moon...
His art is so impossibly huge is girth that Tjung-gra is dwarfed by the audaciously
moutainous size of it, and appears like a small infant child when standing astride it.
Why do you not know of Tjung-gra?
Why do you not breathe Tjung-gra?
Why do you not bleed Tjung-gra?
I have already paid in blood and removed my second testicle to satisfy his insatiable hunger for sacrifice.
Tjungra promised he'd mount me and then create a painting of the act for all to see at the next Australian council.
He is my life-blood and my internal unborn fetus. My creatitivity incarnate though I am sapped of all my juices when he demands them at constant intervals.
Tjungra satisfies. Tjungra never lies. Tjungra is my sun and moon...but who I pray tell is your sun and moon?...don't tell me you rely on yourself?...that is much too fickle!...
Tjungra should be your Daddy Momma and I swear that if you tickle
his belly button just that way
he'll cure you well into your dying day.
03-06-20
Slack i Salessie
Art by: George Tjungurrayi
Living Out My Childhood Dreams
This is more to me than you’d think it seems...
This is not some phase, and you should be thankful
that I take the time on that heavy brow
that is gazing dull
from two black hole shoots...
You may think I’m just up here steaming from an open vent,
living out my childhood dreams,
(as if that were some ill thing...)
sure there’s all that, but there’s more deep down
at the bursting core
that you’re blatantly disregarding...
Maybe you think that we’ve all gone
Freak Mode during a blackout,
exposing a world of woes
like a gang of shot up cowboys
dying in some hole of a forgotten bar,
the hot mess of our brains slithers out
the back of our sabatoged heads
onto the dirty linoleum down below us...
Give these words time before you turn shrieking down that alley!...
Let them germinate and detonate in the cerebellum,
and maybe something will
go off inside...(BING! BAM!)
I pray that you will soon see
that this isn’t just a game,
or only mindless blowing off of steam...
...Yes, I’m living out my childhood dreams,
trying to build better worlds
with each utterance of raw word...
...Hope this helps you to realize
That there’s more then what you know,
and much more then what you see...
Take a chance, we’ve room to grow!...
Black and white is not our color scheme!...
We are charging to a hidden groove
in the record,
like some engine gaining power...
We’ll be tearing down those tracks with force
’fore you know the day or hour,
and we’ll throw you for a loop too soon!...
...Better get on board our Terror Train!...
Yes it’s true, it takes a lot of fuel,
but with mad mavericks like us
we’ll knock out all competition...
All those sleepy-eyed elite...
Yes, they give us more ambition
to attack them in their sleep...
...Fuck them if they’d never listen...
We will answer what’s unsaid
in the recess of their squared heads...
We must follow the loose thread
down into the rabbit hole...
Edit#4
02-27-20
Slack i Salessie
Here I Go, Out of Control Again!...
Feeling sick and sly,
or is it slick and high?...
Not sure which or whether the later...
...saw you postioned on the top rung of your ladder...
Why are you there/when will you fall
to a place where we can talk this out?...(you're so remote!)...
...Right now you only fuck about
when I need for a better answer...
Rome was not built in a day, and all your posturing
it only says how cruelly incomptent are your ways...
I think your kind's seen better days...
Your brain is festering on a tray
out on the lawn where a
passing mutt stops to linger,
then to piss on your pasta primavera that passes for a
simmering cerebellum...
...The fuck you thinking?...
You overwhelm them that dare to dream
while your thick stream of diluted shit's like
a reflective pool of gasoline at some
bowling alley parking lot that's been forgot...
I think I have run out of steam
examining what could of been, but then
you twitch a wretched eyeball in your socket(corner pocket),
and something shudders undercover in a place that seemingly
I can't control...
OH NO!!!!!!...
Why do you continue to insist
on a blighted existence when you should kiss
your life goodbye by walking out
in front of traffic???...
...I now imagine
your arms and eyes and limbs tear off from a bus
when it tears through you at high speeds...
...but still I'm down here,
on my knees
begging for a shriveled piece of pie...
...Oh my, oh my...oh why, oh why???...
...Fuck if I know, but here I go!...
Out of control again!
02-13-20
Slack i Salessie
Ishtar the Cat Wakes Up In a Sweat
i dreamt i was a buddhist, but
it turned out i was wrong...
...i'm only just a house cat
that has slept a teense too long,
and now i'm just awaking...
...what a funny state i'm in!...
i dreamt i was a buddhist monk...
when did that dream sneak in?...
where do i get these crazy views?...
it's really very strange
when i sleep on a couch all day,
and live so out of range
of any eastern thought beliefs...
...where do i get the gall
to meditate, and be a flower
while rolled up in a ball?...
i dreamt i was a buddhist, but
it turned out i was wrong...
...i'm only just a house cat
that has slept a teense too long,
and now i'm just awaking...
...what a funny state i'm in!...
i dreamt i was a buddhist monk...
when did that dream sneak in?...
02-10-20
Slack i Salessie
Unrest
Eyeing a new way
to direct my time...
...I was wallowing
among the fixed few...
Parties nonstop will
never die, but this
apathy is sticking
like glue...
You've found what you need,
tho there are spaces between...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
You've found what you need,
tho there are spaces between...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
Living at the top
of this edifice
I can see all the
cars down below...
...At night I tumble
into my abyss...
Arms reach out, but
There's nothing to hold...
You've found what you need,
tho there are spaces between...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
You've found what you need,
tho there are spaces between...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
Whether rich or poor
we all have agonies...
...and they come in
assortment of size...
Either bills, or new thrills
of heightened unease...
...It's a marvel any
one is alive!...
You've found what you need,
tho there are spaces between...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
You've found what you need,
tho there are spaces between...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
...of unrest!...
02-5-20
Slack i Salessie
Back Splash
I was minding my own business...
I was doing my own thing...
I was out among the stars...
I was a speck upon the beach...
When crisis cast her eyes on me...
When crisis cast her pretty eyes...
When crisis tossed the kitchen sink...
The wall fell open in one blink,
and I was in like Flynn, and thick
with all the spirits one could pick
out of the shadows that grow out
of indecision, and high doubt...
When crisis in her camouflage
came purring by, the world on pause
was gaping at her fiery glow...
There is so little that they know...
Clocktower chimes and at the brink
We must imbibe the missing link,
and find what begs to be ignored...
What crisis chilled us to the core?...
...And now that we have found her eyes
Within the glass, there's no surprise
that we can muster, as we've known
That crisis now is coming home.
01-24-20
Slack i Salessie
Showdown in Buzz Town
Castrated and flipped
by the factories
who have it in mind to not spare us...
...why do they pause
and cruelly stare us
like red bulbs of raw meat?...
The star in my
1st head
streams a street
with no name...
Has all been constructed?...
I study in long hand...
I’ve been keyed in that
The Red Orangtan
has clearly spoken,
and so I enter unabashed...
We are so far marooned out at sea
and be a no light of limbo...
Akimbo we strut though!...
Though there’s nary a symbol...
Fleeting glance Larry
has stepped in to save it.
I wonder his intent, and attention
to denied libido...
His back arches crookedly
under the hot lamp
where we all strip, and pose nakedly
for the facsist flag jacket fuckers
of supremacy
to cause a ripple of a cosmic face-lift...
He was flipped for the factories, and slipped
a nuclear Mickey that dissolved
swift as acid
on a plastic placated smile...
“Clean your own dog dish out Corey, you fuck!...”
The lord of this manner is consorting
with a known felon over spilled ruins
of late night caustic hand tossed
cookie crumbs on the sacred tarry cloth...
A considerably gory detail,
but nothing has yet de-railed me too often
in this sectional sleek interior of mine mind
where the visual barriers are stripped,
and all is afforded the room to settle in dung dust...
Clean your kettle, and re-invent your
grismally gutted dreams
that long since have perished...
We see them screaming by
in the rear window of our ever spinning vortex,
you dig me?...
is this coming through the electrified fence of your
thought forest,
or are you lost like a lamb now forever buried by the barbed wires?...
Edit#2
01-23-20
Slack Salessie