Maybe that’s the hazard in not caring who the person is inside the meat you’re butchering. You never know if that cow is sacred and capable of reincarnating herself into a fire- breathing she-bull and reducing you and your world to ash and manure
to be forked into the compost pile with all the rest of the world’s shit—used to grow whatever nasty things can grow
blooming weeds that grow on the empty graves of all the other calfs you slaughtered who have since risen in rage at the she-bull’s call.
Mourn for yourselves at those empty graves putrid ashen shit flowers, droop and die cycle through your agony endlessly.
I am an essayist and poet. My work has been rejected by some of the finest journals in America. Fortunately, it also gets accepted from time to time and has appeared in equally fine journals such as Word Riot, Inlandia, Brew City Magazine, and SageWoman, among others.. In 2002, I won the Academy of American Poets Prize for Vanderbilt University.
For no good reason, I possess an unnecessarily dark humor which is why being third generation California Inland Empirian delights me so. My gods are weird. I once won $350 for writing a smartassed essay on “why the wise use of water is important in my daily life”. I am undoubtedly the Greek god Hermes’ special snowflake. I’m pretty sure I got into college via a series of fortuitous clerical errors.
When I had to grow up and get a real job, I decided against it and stayed a writer. I have worked many odd—and I mean odd—jobs to support my habit: PR writer for country music hopefuls, resume massager, WalMart fitting room attendant and switchboard operator, and telephone psychic, just to name a few.
I am also albino. That's why my psychic gifts are so strong. I traded in my pigment for magical foresight, because that's how it works. It gets all technical. Trust me. That's totally how it works.
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One thought on “Perpetrators, Mourn for Yourselves (poetry)”
Sadly there is waste. The academics’ excuses and explanations for perpetrators are excrement. Pseudo-analysis is more important to them than compassion for the victims. They say that “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” But the road to Hell is paved with feces. The beginning intention of the three wise moneys to not dwell on evil thoughts has evolved into not caring about removing and punishing perpetrators. The media are easily manipulated by low level demons. Actually there are no good intentions. The quest for power and for the praise of the Devil is addictive.