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Unfound Poem by Paul Corman-Roberts

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Maroon 5 make the Bay City Rollers
look like Black Sabbath
and dozens of the communists
I will have to fuck for a whole bean
grind or at least an undying crush
on a closet cardigan bad and fierce
over April Fool’s impassioned thrashings
in orfici posse expeditions discover
everything I ever wanted to know
about a fundamental stoicism
where we suck up the beatings
and surprised by the lack of swan
formations in our mirrors of Tsunami porn
and disassociation from the fact of
only us being our own media with turds
on our faces when we feel it’s a good day
like so many tombstone dorks
pushing fifty pounds of straw asbestos
into the icebox of my body so I can become
the new Bob on the new Twin Peaks
and show these small press SOB’s a real Red Room
where Zionist Pigs lunch with anti-Semite scum
and this whole concept is too dangerous
for you namely: you must repent
for blaming the Fred Durst thing
on Rage Against the Machine
or John Boehner on Abe Lincoln;
as it is there are too many aliens
coming down on this side of the Bak’tun cycle
advocating free nicotine and ice cream
for the godless scum who dare to sport
clear windows on their white vans.

Paul Corman Roberts once invited Jehovah’s Witnesses into his home to study scripture and offered them bong hits. They never came back. He edits fiction for Full of Crow magazine and is the founder of Oakland’s Beast Crawl Literary Festival.

 Lead image“P1060182” (via Flickr user Mike Linksvayer)