moon

A committee in suits had made a decision
behind closed doors,
they were going to build a bingo hall on the moon

They would use private investments
from hedge funds,
fun run sponsorship donations and cocaine money

Talismans would be sent from all the sectors
and the Moon men would rejoice at the pondorous Saxons
attempts to popularise the Earths hobby
on the moon

Their time had been and gone, those Saxons,
more fleet in foot then the dodo
and more tastier to boot
but they had resisted cannibalism

Until till now.

A time capsule would be buried on the Moon,
under the bingo caller’s high priest chair.
containing white elephant bric-a-brac
Rubix cubes, etch a sketch and yo-yo’s

And the first flights to the bingo Moon could only be won
by entering a hamburger corporations competition, one entry
per human.

So it was written

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5 comments

  1. multiplemichael

    does your shoe size change on the moon ?
    “condense”
    listen i’m not from Canada or Homer Ovid but I know bingo is slang for something crooked
    I know Stalin was guilty of bingo
    “to keep the citizens awake forever”
    bingo for homicidal purposes
    grunt and squeal in the bedroom
    sounds like measures of weight
    beaten weight crawling weight
    you shriek in your sleep
    Judas of bingo
    repeatedly yea-saying Beatles on bingo
    not the good stuff of today but the old standard coughing bingo
    happy as puppies those Beatles
    the stubborn durability of that rock music
    who would survive ?
    murderous sidewalks in NYC
    the dirty rat bastard
    done shot our bingo dead
    what dictates a body to death ?
    forget about bingo and think about the presence of time itself
    you are oversaturated with push pins
    they are under your nails
    push pin pause within a push pin pause
    phonetic push pins miniaturized
    phonetic pleas of night
    insomnia in a bottle of meth honey
    crime and coffee

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      fascination with Stalin and cold European prose – corpses frozen under ten inches of manifestos – the weight – dead
      in perma frost

      your pin prick persuasion, profoubd, pierces poetic paragraphs

      – the death throws of the final paragraph – a misplaced comma – insestious grapplings at yearly family gatherings –
      study groups in a space shuttles pick apart Beatle lyrics – dissect, evaluating – paperback writer – thick skin tattooist – the music has a half life of 50,000 years

      and under moon footprints they bury the time capsule:
      bingo cards
      Beatles
      pins
      Stalins hat

      Like

  2. multiplemichael

    a committee: mass bingo in delicate tints and faint hues
    unpredictable turns paganistically buoyant bingo
    the screeching of tires
    every angry wife caught up in terrifying acceleration
    the whole undertaking of life in an automobile of irony
    exposed nerve sacs just look at that bra size
    paid for by the pace of daily degradation
    unmitigated muck at worse criminal muck
    when will he wash his groin ?
    smells like HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
    when will he wash his groin ?
    inherited from his forebears
    the unhappy copulation out of which he came
    straining for depth wails then sobs
    the rush of seed throbbing
    a jubilant ‘BINGO’ he shouted

    Like

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