by ze

and you could DIE
in a NY minute…
and God’s not out there or
IN here or anywhere to be found
Hidden so BAD so small

SO…not at all…

And the 1s, and the 10s, and the 100s

          and the 1000s, and the millions of the Clergy
with everybody cheering
start diving, FLYING out from Ivory Castles

          SPLASHING, CRASHING to moats down below
to the rivers, and out into the sea…

(they had the best property)

When a person wears a costume, in public
in private or cloistered all cra’y-like and be gettin’ paid

You best beware
hold tight your wallet
run RUN FAST as light
Thee DI-RECT other way…

They grabs your heart, your mind
and set up shop, take it over
and that’s the key
They want what’s all your worth
from now thru Sunday
to fulfill “Gawd’s
‘Eternal Prophecy'”

(a big fat lottery)

Ah, the music, the “DIVINE!” sweet music

Gregorian chants, and hymns, and gospel and
rockin’ rollin’ Jesus-on-a-scooter with singy singy
song SONG!
And Glory Hallelu’
Guitars and sitars and tom toms and bass and cymbals

      and, and little tiny bells, “Duh-DIIING!”

            Amazing Grace
up in yo’ face
(the slave owner’s song)
Eyes gleaming, tears streaming
cash registers cry out, “Cha-CHIIINNNG!”


Damn them Clergy, DAMN them ALL!
Them stupid, STUPID silly little bastard men
in flowing long dresses, they’s headin’ for

The Fall

They lie and cheat and steal and ‘heal’ and torture and kill

               and war and grope and rape and sodomize(O’ Lawdy, don’t they just love that!)

                and smile and PRAY and pontificate and surmise and see ‘bright shiny lights’ right before their squinty little eyes
and delude and threaten ‘666’, and cast that sorcerer’s spell…

                     Doncha KNOW they is the “BEST” of people, by Job!( just ask ’em)…

    Thee BEST goddamn people in
dot dot dot
(wait for it)


So, when you see them coming, the Freak Show, the Clergy
take yo’ wife, yo’ hubby, yo’ chillin’s, yo’ boyfriend
yo’ yo’ yo’
“partner” and missy and sissy and bro’ bro’ and momma and papi

              and aunty and grandpa and and…anybody and everybody at’all
you can get yo’ mofo hands on
(maybe, just maybe two by two)
THAT’S ‘XACTLY what you gonna DO
and climb that creaky stinking ramp to that insane surreal giant sage schooner
they call

The Ark for All Ages

(obtw, take some nice furry animals too…)

And set sail toward that infinite Sunrise Sea…

         ‘cross the clear-blue-sky-shining-shimmering
Follow that seagull
leave them dark clouds behind
with them bad ol’

Dumb Dead Clergy

(you know that’s where you gotta be…)

('ze', or 'ze~robertinho', is an alias of the alias 'Fred Hampton')

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I wrote a poem once, not really for polite company.

Starts like this..."I held her down...she closed her eyes..." and then it went off the rails.


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