Jack Spratt

120719 04:39 of mice

Of mice and mice, men & men, Dear Mr. Pope, I don't take shit from anyone, cross me and you're dead meat wrapped in cling frozen for left overs.

Yet for God dearly beloved you may splay and vivisect me anytime all the time for fucking ever.

In the silent still well a depth of tears shed goes all the way through to China and back again at times Maya some times magma yet at other times, I a journalist, witness to the viscera of life would contend like Prometheus with God the singular of or plural All of Them at once.

And he, my son, was always other, a nascent king, the future of all life, yet he died and I ate the big one – it was my fault. Even now at times I fall into the wet cold earth beside his diminutive Styrofoam coffin helpless, hysterical, with grief my silent scream shattering the knowable Universe & she stood with Nancy the Nurse frozen; dare I say what I saw frozen indifferent . . . it's best I left her . . . had I stayed the passion at times compassion would have destroyed her and I too would be held captive a ransom for justice without mercy yet like a quark passing though stones atoned * see please the woman at Walpole for burning her husband to death.

M knows, my beloved emerald eyed Sphinx, sees though me transparent as an empty glass leaving no shadow no prismatic rainbow of colors. Here snark boy have another testicle in your nose al-Qaida you haven't a clue what you're dealing with Rumi knows never having left the banquet feast of it all.

Addiction noun Being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming (especially alcohol or narcotic drugs) or power & greed -XOJ

"There is a great difference between satisfaction and satiation."- Mary Jane Sherfey

Poets know the seasons of hell and glory of infinity flown birds in space . . . were there time like eternity times a trillion I would know the minds of those beloved of me binged upon occasionally drunk and insane staring into the moon on fire.

Jonathan Winters & me or I or whatever touched with a tincture of insanity fuck the butterfly catchers waiting in the dark wings of this stage overwhelming force thanks but no thanks for the shower just insert me in the oven the gas roaring no ash nothing remains your guilt expunged like me.

I swim in urine the isle between those piss ants contesting stalemate congress of baboons savage cannibals of my beloved country tis of thee. I can I heal PTSD? I think so since I’ve been there done that have the tattoo and bumper sticker all over my psyche

What would Jesus look like returned pissed of never pissed on? Times all the poor now living ignored by greed indifferent?

Hell for you will not be fire or ice just being eaten alive and regurgitated to do it all over again pain unending like Commander Chuck E. Cheese cat and mouse we'll change roles so I can know better how to play you.

I am your surrogate father. The Fargo Shredder will feel like play in the park with Winnie the Po and Froggie nothing so grand as mucking about in small boats smiling. It's not about the money honey it's about cruelty towards dad my friend and your victim.

--Max Ehrmann (Desiderata)

" . . . do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here."

--Steve Martin

I believe that Ronald Reagan can make this country what it once was - an Arctic region covered with ice.

--C. S. Lewis

Authority exercised with humility, and obedience accepted with delight are the very lines along which our spirits live.

Dear Mr. Thought Policewoman/man remember this is poetry of a sort not actionable under Mr. Bush, now a “poor fucking civilian”, otherwise known as “PFC” though he never really earned the honorific of “President and Commander & Chief” or “PFC” as a draft dodger not attending drills posing with Aircraft Carriers or in a war plane. . . .In a penny arcade of thoughts sold like condoms to children who cannot read having no time in their lust.

No I am not an enemy combatant. Just a ofttimes lunatic jester ready to die for my country or the right, as Voltaire said, of free speech; meaning your right to be a goddamned fool.

PS

Without free speech this is not a country sovereign or otherwise it is a dictatorship of ideology inimical to God who in wisdom and mercy gave all Free Will.

No lemmings need apply.

In ideal transparency I have included quotes from iGoogle collected while looking up the correct spelling of al-Qaida. Indicative of my dialog with the truth I am motivated by.

We are what we consume and the keeper kept.

© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved