POWIP Piece of Work In Progress

1. 

   Bob Reed
   December 8th, 2009 - 08:24

   Maybe our MFA, revolutionary-cum-Heroic! Marxist-cum-man of letters will regale with some of the Wednesday night poetry reading material he uses to try and pry open the drawers of non-armpit shaving, peirced nose, baristas…

   I’m sure it’s glorious! stuff, a veritable charge of the light-weight brigade…

   Oh, and OT, but props on the Pack’s win last night. But with all the penalty yardage, I couldn’t tell whether the Packers were playing exceptionally well, or the Ravens exceptionally poorly…

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   • 

     Denny Lewis
     December 8th, 2009 - 16:57

     Maybe our flaccid floatering fatboi cashed his gubmint welfare check in time to waddle down to the Taliban market and buy him some double-gonzo porno mags.

     I’m sure his sexual repression grunts and oinks! Pull your pig toy home…

     Tickle nor twaddle
     Float and spank
     Waddle, boy, waddle

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     • 

       Bob Reed
       December 8th, 2009 - 18:49

       I don’t know where you’re getting all of the visions of corpulence from; considering we’ve never met and you’ve never seen my photos…

       The same is true regarding the whole sexual repression slur…

       And since when is duly earned compensation, for flying inro harm’s way or work on strategic systems, honorable services rendered considered welfare?

       Only in a cartoon reality, or a universe of lies…

       Which one is it?

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       • 

         Denny Lewis
         December 8th, 2009 - 19:46

         You were begging for a ruthless mocking, no? Then what part of the Golden Rule did you not understand?

         You know no honor, Sir, unless failed attempts at trumpeting one’s self as the hero-of-mankind by rote of one’s daily non-stop degradation of others is the definition of honor. And I think it not, Sir.

         The long days of rites to purification through exclusion are gone, meaning you ain’t no medieval Pope and even if you were it, today, wouldn’t matter. Any patriotic American would knows this, Dostoevsky writes of it in Diary of a Writer (getting past the un-merciless of language directed toward our neighbors), Foucault in Madness and Civilization, herr tomcatty flyer with no plane of regard! Hahaha. (poetic pun, no?)

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2. 

   Dan Collins
   December 8th, 2009 - 09:02

   He’s the Poet Laureate of Smug.

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3. 

   Dan Collins
   December 8th, 2009 - 09:04

   Thanks, Bob. I don’t think either team played well, though I only followed it on one of those “Live” charts at CBSSports. After the game, I calculated 23 total penalties for 310 total yards. Apparently, the combined penalty yards on pass interference were the second highest ever, so it was probably a pretty sucky Monday Night experience for those who didn’t have any skin in the game.

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   • 

     Denny Lewis
     December 8th, 2009 - 16:59

     Boring game, frankly.

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4. 

   Kevin B
   December 8th, 2009 - 09:06

   “Oh beautiful Earth the day after tomorrow,
   Will, sadly, be boiled like a huge red lobster in sorrow,
   When the Devil’s gas produced by Mankind his engines,
   Is trapped like a blanket and melts all the hinges
   That let the climate be natural and not swinging.”

   “Oh if you would learn what you sinners can do,
   To avoid the catastrophe that really is your due,
   Then come to the meeting I’m holding nearby,
   Where you will learn how to avoid the disaster that is nigh,
   By paying me dollars. (Skeptics and heretics need not apply.”

   Albert Rhinestone McGoracle

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5. 

   Freakether3
   December 8th, 2009 - 09:57

   today was the last day
   they arrived in limos
   they rocked the casbah or some such disco
   they fatigued their thinking
   & grabbed each other’s ass…

   but/& while-meanwhile:

   Today
   they started
   plowing
   the graveyards

   today
   the end of the world
   as we know it
   Started

   Today
   I didn’t comb my hair
   stood & stared
   @ the plows
   Digging up the graveyard

   I can dig it yo
   I can dig it!!

   Today
   they planted peach trees
   that the Bees
   Would make a come-back

   Today
   The world
   came to its senses

   Today
   we left the dead
   To bury
   Themselves

   It rocs yo
   It rocs!!!

   Maranatha!!

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