con artist 

a con artist in the big house

   the tiniest hands the easiest of crimes 

  a stolen nation

stored rock by rock in safety deposit boxes 

above him

out of his league
toss him through the window

leave him at the side of the road 
into a pile of plug in girlfriends

discarded as hard to clean for  

fear of damaging conduits and coils 
that hiss 

and fizz and the sound of a can of Coke opening is the sound of Satan leaving your soul 
said the priest 
the church of Coke: 

artistic glass bottles of the 1950s 

shaped like woman you wanted to fuck 

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68 comments

  1. multiplemichael

    I sent a resume to Pontius Pilate
    had no other address than Palace:

    Pontius Pilate
    @ Palace

    before the Crucifixion
    I would deliver plug-in sex dolls,
    Q-tips to clean the marital aids,
    bulletins of upcoming bull fights
    and cockfights

    one day in a golf cart
    I released a slight hiss and fizz
    some Echinacea and B-12
    solved that dilemma

    in America, The Church of Coke
    has nothing to do with soft drinks
    one side of the railroad tracks
    (+) Church of Meth
    other side of the tracks
    (+) Church of Coke
    sometimes people burrow under the barrier
    and partake of both sides
    (+) one side, you might get sodomized by someone smoking a cigar
    (+) the other side, you might ride an elevator for the first time

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Pilates email address was hosted by Freeserve – 4577 spam emails about cock girth
      – Nigerian requests for $16million
      he spend hours looking for the invite to that meal –
      – after the last meal they did lines of Coke
      lines cut with the Spear of Destiny
      — confusion and fight I’M THE FIRST DISCIPLE
      I’M THE FIRST DISCIPLE

      all at time when socks didn’t exist

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      800 or more men dressed in polo-paisley
      standing outside looking up at Pontius Pilate
      a jaunty foxtrot rhythm in the background
      ———————–
      (direct confrontation with words)
      words that leave one not equipped
      shared drama hiding in the bushes
      until the morning sun

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        still looking at comments from 5th November
        – I’m living in the past –
        the illiterate poet on the back foot
        – not equipped for the job
        like painting in one colour
        – climbing a mountain barefoot
        gazing at the sun
        till you go blind

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        800 men in Greece
        and you were the only one
        not wearing polo-paisley
        they say that you made bubbles in the hot-tub
        instead of wrangling the bone with Russian wives
        you were offering a solution choice, exit stage right
        (+) later, kitchen staff collected the hot-tub water to cook pasta

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the dress code was PREP SCHOOL GEEK –
        autistic kids dressed as pro golfers
        Russian wives tethered to the floor in case a gust of wind blew them away – angry husbands in the potatoes queue

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        800 men in Greece
        snazzy in polo-paisley
        most attended bible study in prison
        no matter what, you were never at ease in their company
        when they offered you a light for your cigarette
        you wouldn’t bend over to pick anything up
        the pleasure for real men wasn’t in receiving

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        not only unfamiliar
        but also unintelligible
        essential language
        make a list of all the “MIKES”
        that you know
        kill the skinny ones
        and those without a beard
        let no one stand in your way
        fewer “MIKES” equals
        less anal inconvenience
        less Niagara diarrhea
        less red chafe

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        many mikes
        – members of bands
        – ham actors
        – fat mike skinny mike bearded mike gay mike mike with three fingers mike in an aeroplane mike in a downtown police cell
        all the miles together standing in a row stretches to Omaha

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        IT IS NO SECRET
        I go to policeman conventions
        and beg policemen to shoot me
        riding an elevator with 5 policemen
        all have guns strapped to their body
        “please shoot me—speed up my passing”
        at first they try to comprehend
        then they just curse
        no first class ticket
        “you got on the ride, you have to go the entire route”

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        at the convention they had
        an assisted suicide booth

        – trigger happy pigs in sharply ironed suits –

        for $15 you could throw insults and get fired at
        for $5 they’d beat with you with billy clubs

        the detectives knew their onions

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      you liked to think of it as a factory
      but it was really a prison
      Daddy and all the confessional relatives
      worked there in the belly 24/7
      kind of all-male, kind of rough
      attracted and repelled by sodomy
      magazines only showed the crack
      not the mouth

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        you told the kids at school
        that your dad worked at the factory
        but when you mentioned The Leviathan
        the weaker boys ran and hid
        ****preaching pacifism and going at it doggy style

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        my dad was a carpenter
        he always smelt of wood
        the smell of the saviour
        he always had splinters imbedded in skin
        but he never worked at Leviathan
        – kids thought he carried a hammer
        – kids thought he’s nail ’em to the wall

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      if Aldous Huxley can ever escape the butt crack
      of Swami Prabhavananda
      he swears that he will murder me
      “I would just be a stain on blotter paper”
      MultipleMichael Dead at the Hands of Aldous Huxley
      ————–just watch the London Tabloids————-

      Liked by 1 person

    • multiplemichael

      make a list of all the “MIKES” that you know
      start killing them
      and when you get to me
      do it gangster style
      back of the head
      “gangster style” in newspaper type
      pull out a fingernail or two
      stuff a Nazi flag in my mouth
      otherwise
      I might be just another vagabond

      Liked by 1 person

      • eatmorewords

        double Mike last on the list
        — any last requests?
        — what gangsters style ? Mexican hung from a bridge
        – – old fashioned East End style – razor blade smile
        –marched from your bed and made to dig a grave?
        — I could use a gun
        a knife
        fire or meat in your pocket and I’ll set the dogs on you —

        and strangely I received an email from a campaign called SAVE THE MIKES

        (they wanted donations!)

        Like

  2. multiplemichael

    I tried to take the noise-maker
    to your street
    but I fell asleep
    in the J. Lennon Airport
    someone in Liverpool
    stole my expensive torpedo
    probably a racial insect
    (+) poets never write about creatures
    experiencing a private psycho-physical existence

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      riding a bicycle down the sidewalk
      where homosexuals were known to be persecuted
      a healthy pink torpedo in my Swiss short pants
      I told everyone that I was headed to the J. Lennon Airport
      ————————————–
      cruelly abandoned to the open window of a speeding car
      the baby with the healthy pink torpedo had no wings
      ————————————–
      offering the reader all the clues needed for analysis

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      that damn Robert Frost
      picturesqueness supreme
      brutal poetry about leaves being blown away
      beavers having dreams in the shadows of the Eiffel Tower
      Orientals outside painting everything gray
      prostitutes hiring prostitutes to work for them
      foreigners going in all directions on the walkway
      Little Johnny Boy with his compass
      his puberty polices itself—able to turn into sweetness
      pleasantly likeable—-hose-trained and ready
      ****two men in a Renault captured the beavers
      and sold them to a Japanese restaurant
      ****the sadness of this act would sadden a sad person
      that damn Robert Frost
      poetic inebriation
      an apostle of artificiality
      chants at the workshop, “wring his neck”
      many were the chapters of creative suffering
      ****tried to cut his fingers off but the scissors were dull
      ****I was habituated to the sight of blood—a medic in the war

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        they banned Robert Frost from the library –
        – his books
        and his physical body
        – there was a 30mile exclusion zone –
        – there were pictures of him behind the counter DO NOT ALLOW
        ENTRANCE

        — Robert Frost impersonators going out of business
        one trick ponies
        one trick ponies ready for the glue factory

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      a pantomime of lovemaking
      new and strange
      foreign——–possibly American
      —————————-
      concentrating
      on the provocative thread count
      hyper-expensive socks
      unprotected on the floor
      —————————-
      slip them on in the dark
      and suddenly
      become traumatically alive

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        early morning poetry is half remembered sketches from
        last night dreams
        —bones buried under soil
        confusion of what determines “homeland”
        “indigenous”

        stolen or borrowed

        traumatic stuff baby bird
        you need a repeat prescription

        Like

  3. multiplemichael

    nursery rhymes for older folks
    the words set to a barrelhouse piano riff
    Mia Farrow having daydreams of marrying Frank Sinatra
    Frank Sinatra living in a state of cocoon-like isolation
    rumors were flying about his dilapidated genitals
    ****John Lennon said it best,
    “everybody’s got something to hide except for me and my monkey”

    Like

  4. multiplemichael

    ——————-POETRY WORKSHOP
    the chain reaction
    that lead to the birth of a poem
    1000 fulcrums in one day
    threads of circumstance
    threads of randomness
    a nonstarter hot to trot
    ****I was forced to stop and go home

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the poetry workshop was inundated with demands for refunds –
      – people thought after one meeting they’d be professionals
      THE FOOLS
      a few descriptive words for a tree
      a line about the beauty of a flower or lost love
      NONSENSE. NONSENSE.

      the quiet one in the corner wrote about the brutality of urban architecture

      (he was told to go home )

      Like

  5. multiplemichael

    ———unconditional surrender————
    walked into the honeymoon suite
    in guilt and frustration
    having had my heart broken
    just wanted it to be “ordinary”
    —————————-
    except for the cigarettes
    she was a mortician’s dummy
    the kind they train those trade school girls

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      she said that you looked at her
      like she was a giraffe
      ——————-
      fighting there in bed
      if only she could really believe
      in what you were fighting for
      then the struggle might have meaning
      you claimed that it was a progression
      towards a new being
      but that was a load of crap
      you were squirming to get a nut
      sadly, the satisfaction was only momentary
      ****she was thinking of black veins and larvae with your face

      Like

  6. multiplemichael

    I was awkward
    she was defensive
    eyeing one another
    for the first time
    with the lights on
    she said, “you’re pudgy”
    I thought of that goat in Greece
    with the ring painted around its eye
    I asked, “do you realize that you’re pooping pellets ?”
    ****a quick note to mommy (she thinks it perfectly normal
    to defecate in bed)

    Like

  7. multiplemichael

    baffled by intercourse
    she said that I had to stick it in
    to make it legal
    words from a prophet of doom
    unbending and precise
    it went in
    forthcoming much too soon
    regularity stepped on like a roach
    “you got your nut………first and last in one go”

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      everyone on earth
      is ordinary
      except
      YOURSELF
      you bow down
      only to Russian literature
      ———————–
      as you walk by
      there is a hint of the Mediterranean coast
      nothing stale about you
      Johnny Boy, an introspective hero

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        the heaviness of Russian literature
        & its cold prose
        some say it’s like wading through treacle
        some masochists read it naked sat in snow their balls turning blue

        introspective heroes in clown trousers and no capes


        – I walked a mile in someone’s shoes
        – blistered forever
        suncracked

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        all the far men in town applied for the role of Santa
        it was an easy job
        no need for a beard THEY WOULD BE SUPPLIED –
        – the black folk in darktown complained – why should Santa be white?
        questions on a panel show
        – Santa carried snakes in his sack

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        your automobile was the Catholic Church in metal
        you with Greek coins in your pockets
        speeding in purgatory
        yet, finding time to stop
        and purchase plastic Jesus
        last week it was plastic Dostoevsky
        the week before that it was plastic Tchekov
        the plastic seat covers were good protection
        from the sufferings and sympathies

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        a sofa covered and wrapped in plastic
        sweaty summer legs stick
        the Greek coins were worthless
        they couldn’t float in water
        plastic Jesus sold at the market
        It will never catch on

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        when they handed you a copy of Robert Frost
        you knew not to read the damn thing
        roll a cigarette, start a fire, wipe your behind
        only one book on the bookcase
        all other literature was corruption
        (reading as a controlled activity)
        blasphemy and loathsomeness
        in rural Kentucky

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        smokes rolled in pages of books
        smoke more words
        vowels in the lungs
        – in prison all the books had their pages glued together with contraband hidden inside –
        – the weight of the books bend the shelf
        there is one book shop in Kentucky but 18 whorehouses

        Like

  8. multiplemichael

    a downside of being rich:
    everyone constantly complains
    about the injustice
    of having to earn a living
    ————permanently impaired employment
    convenient to pity most people
    work clothing crawling up their ass
    medieval gossip at the tea counter
    what was on the tube
    nobody talks about shooting a giant wad
    or coughing up a hairball
    sidestepping invitations
    lacking a particularly sympathetic personality
    cured of drink but not the meth
    ————excess money makes people funny
    trading drugs with physicians
    new-found love in motels
    stimulants so strong
    your eyes turn red
    ————poetry about reasonable girls
    limitless expense
    5 trips to the ATM
    without the glory of money
    they huddle in the corner
    like damaged zoo apes
    without the glory of meth
    they huddle in the corner
    like mascots of yesterday

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the rich in their new socks
      and new shoes in their new cars and sitting on new seats watching a TV screen wider than the horizon
      – life through a prism
      – a life filled with things
      – a massive weight bearing down conversations with the psychiatrist

      role play escape : sleep with the poor
      – wear the same pair of pants twice
      – secret trips to darktown
      – written in diaries with a Montblanc

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        regardless of the size of the television the programme will end the same
        – she only watched black and white programmes – her television was the size of paperback page –
        Jimmy Herring
        the head of the aquarium

        Like

  9. multiplemichael

    detectives at the wedding
    busy parceling out the measurements
    the groom tested, probed, and labelled
    mention of the other brother
    ENJOYS READING ADVENTURE NOVELS
    (+) excited wanderings through literature
    so sensitive that he cried when he saw the smallest suffering
    at odd hours men in darkness would cross his path with lanterns
    ****later in life as homosexual feelings grew stronger
    the lanterns were replaced with high quality flashlights

    Like

  10. multiplemichael

    saucy remarks —spicing up the chitchat of pool hall junkies
    graduates of the local penitentiary
    suitcases under the bed full of face-saving responses
    humiliating retreats with the backside firmly against the wall
    constantly under observation—biting nails on park benches
    constantly being asked to produce a birth certificate
    the Lord Storyteller—the Lord Poet
    ordinary people producing conversational poetry
    laziness, lewdness, sodomy
    (+) 1/2 penitentiary colony sodomy…1/2 reform school sodomy

    Like

  11. multiplemichael

    a real poet would wear a monocle
    and a candy-colored polo shirt
    and postcards of musclemen
    purchased along the Seine
    would be stuffed into a paperback
    “Sounds Through Motel Walls”
    in December, Americans love to eavesdrop

    Liked by 1 person

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