2 new poems—Thanks PpigPenn!

The venerable Catfish McDaris just posted 2 new poems of mine over at Ppigpenn: See the original post.

Here are the 2 new poems which are part of a manuscript in process titled DOOMSDAY JOGGING:

SOLAR CORONA

A Chinese chamber on the moon
full of rotten cotton leaves.

On my mission to the moon I found out my penis
did more than pee. It was Space Camp: Level 2.

There’s no way to know exactly what happened.
The uniform just rubbed it funny.

You only see the sun’s crown when the sun’s
got a nail poked through.

I did experiments on the dark side
while my friends touched down.

The person who holds their breath the longest
dies.

I looked in the mirror that first time
then pretended to look away.

I was in the bedroom but I wasn’t sure
who else was in the house.

You only see the sun’s crown
when the sun’s not around.

A young woman trail running in Colorado
was chased by a juvenile cougar.

How’d she feel squeezing its throat to death?
How’s it feel strangling yourself free?

Cesar said you punch a cat in the mouth
and grab it by the esophagus.

I’m sleeping off the puppy pee
I heard in the hallway.

To be honest, it wasn’t a woman who strangled that cat.
It was the boa constrictor fingers of a penised man.

I used to say penis to be funny.
Now I say it to be grave.

Astronauts from the six Apollo moon missions
left 96 bags of human waste on the moon.

Koala bears eat their parent’s poop. We learned that
by minding their business.

When you’re alone in lunar orbit it’s impossible
not to masturbate.

Pop like a Chinese cotton seed on the moon—stretch
clear to the light.

 

COMMANDMENTS

turn from grey to black too quickly
like a thin steak on a hot fire

proceed to the edge of global warming
flash your backstage pass

taste blood accidentally

drape clocks over the edge of a table
drape a handkerchief over a walrus

stagger like a zombie down your street
slip like thread between the teeth of a puppy
dig a hole in the carpet

hand over any unharmed baby
to your nearest firehouse

pop a zit on your upper lip
sleep in a field of nightshades
replace what’s clear with light

layaway doomsday

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