September 8, 2009


watch out and pray as I prey
ice cold but sweet as a magpie
what is a cluster within a mud pile?
do without, deploy, start all over again
shoot the stars and shoot your enemies
do something

how could someone be so flawed?
why isn't there product recall for people like you
just like they do with toys, pills

sad, lame and pathetic junkster
drinking somebody else's milk
sweet stolen milk

this being the case
I can't think of anything but cantankerous cranks
heavy metal scything, sugar pods,
bolts and guts, a tiny little hole
the infamous glaze, the red stare

I shout disembowelment, impalement
medieval tactics for your impoverished XXI century ethics
brutal force to arrest your carnal pillage
not hatred but mere sense of old-fashioned justice

you break, you pay
guts and all are now over the table
the dripping meadows and swinging shadows
of what could be the spleen, a kidney here,
some fat tissue there, the bloody landscape
of a not so delicate cross section
performed in a miscalculated slash from meat thirsty shredders
steaming and pumping still
a crimson tide and awful smell
and you won't shut up

left me with this as my only option
and as I slowly shove a little more I see tears
now that's what I call empathy
just like our counselor advised

hope you don't mind I took the poetic license
and read between the lines:

beatrice kaplan (Pembroke, NH, 1985)