Eyes rolling, concrete broken,
government talking in tank,
spoken over bread & wine
& destiny manifest, streets
with pixilated populations
imperfect sleepwalking,
not officially evil,
blue smoke coughing up
inferno gut gone Dante,
inciting violence, violation
intolerant, gone Golfwaffe,
dragons flying over all seas,
real-world real-politic beneath
pushing up orcs, daisies lining
boulevards denting machine monsters
with angry signs, targeted advertisements
summoning revolution, private & public
Under the covers
with the radio on
great discoveries
into the night
arcs of architecture
sonic beams spinning
Beatles, Kinks, Bowie
& Three Dogs Knighted
in secret rebellion
Album oriented later, rocked,
raised by wolves
at Tower Records
Upper-middle-class boys,
mom said, always reminding,
with enough expendable income
for a wall of eight-tracks,
stoner training devices
all that voodoo entices
Sheer freedom's license
Motion without the violence
~ Douglas McDaniel
Tolleson, Arizona
Kingdom heaven
upon us
Another Esto Bonney
chorus erupts
Total empathy
wide river worldwide
Totalitarian shame
Thanking little baby plastic
Bill Gates
Luciferian-lit
voltage terrain
running smoothly
at decent rates
Saying smiley faced
Gesundheit to all great
oligarchic Golfwaffe!
Can't tear towers down
Only ones
we've got
Sum human
conundrum
Thanking alien overlords
Bunny in song
not a hawk
Stone-shaped black heart
Magical elixir
William Blake darkly artful
Fed once Jesus
by the mouthful
All the graffiti
is painted over now
God ain't
Art Garfunkel
Child once asked
Grandma & Grandpa
if communion wine
Kool-Aid tasted good
They laughed
relieved
not blood
Preacher speaks:
O of all the great
things to say
before a flood
Floating tomb
believe deceive
Deeper muse
Deeper
O gawd we're all so
skull & crossbones
confused
Whose bones be they?
Yours?
Bouncey housey
in a big haboob
Poor managers
let it all sail away
Yo you're the media
& you're late
Serving up sound bytes
& salty satire comedy
cracker uppers
So if protest drums
out there who knows?
Just too damn busy
for information flows
These leaders flaming
high inflammation
cocaine up their nose
Dirt perfect particles
spraying in the face
Front moves in
Fifty miles per hour
Time enough for a note
Not a question so much
A make-you-wonder
What-the-fuck!
Bible bummer
is only
one
hundred
forty
four
thousand
Chosen One
babies on board
Alien overlord starship
lacking boats
for everyone?
Bet Bezos has ticket
& so does Soros
Only one pet allowed
Meanwhile, baked on Earth
protests need some percentage
success
More percentage
more than current run ... Run!
Prayed about
this Trumpist tattoo
in church prayer garden
built beside car wash
Jet engine loud
& couldn't keep
third eye open
But eye one good
eye two okay
Thanking alien overlords
once again
Well as Zuckerberg
in a manger
making me better, man,
maybe
Takes rael cowboy
to light one up
in such demonic
dust devil winds
~ Douglas McDaniel
Tolleson, Arizona
Eyes peeking out pain from sockets
as the catheter goes right off rocket
past the unimaginable shock of birth.
Spread thin like salad dressing
by the American Medical Association.
Served up for billing purposes.
Let me be your gravy train.
Let me be your next victim
of the artfully intelligent artificial
laser-guided Davinci surgery machine.
There's not even a purr,
Doctor, do you concur?
Having already navigated
your impersonal professional gatekeepers,
read your data-driven beepers, soaked, no,
deep-fried into molecular
Sauce of Information
Inflammation A-la-Mode,
do you concur, Doctor Bones?
When I was young if they cut you up,
gutted you like sea bass, oh, they had class,
they stuck you in a hospital for your broken ass,
with nurses & smiling feces faces
shaped like bed pans, an energy
almost as bad as the airport,
but they didn't throw you out
on the street just for sport,
doctor, do you concur?
Meet the new cruelty.
Culture that consumes.
Keeps you live long enough
to let you die & die & die,
splayed across the operating table:
Doctor, what are the words?
Am I oxycontin able, pain pills
for the electronic staples?
A feast for your gauzy tray ...
Doctor Bones, am I going to be okay?
Chart a course to Starbucks.
Keep an eye out for bathroom crashers.
Hub of liberal-o-cracy, just a haze away
from Monument Mountain,
where the first surveyor's meridian line
was struck in the "arid zone" region,
at the confluence of the Agua Fria & Gila ...
I realize, this is more than just vaguely journalistic,
as a fact, but when you're deceased,
just can't follow the facts. And it's more
than just the loss of fertile soil or irrigated fields,
the flash-in-a-pan for gold roll, now so old,
... here comes the espresso rush, the touch
of Tolleson turned into parking lots
for trucks & gas stations & big boxes
so full of slaves all they can do is crave
the only corporate transactions
this cemented fabrication can provide,
words flowing in every direction,
free as birds, oh, the words, the words ...
See the drift of construction workers
in orange jackets, grimly greeting the morning
central caffeine station, looking for the cosmic bus
right on out of here, past the barrier reefs
of castle-crates big enough for industrious kings
who hot-branded the compromised wetlands
on my two-wheeled alchemical trek
& nobody here is getting wet ...
Who cares what the invisible see?
The Canis Latrans in me still runs free.
- Douglas McDaniel
Tolleson, Arizona
Not answering phone calls from Texas.
Too many lost relatives there buried
below the Alamo. Bedded down
with the bones of Davey Crockett.
Detectives say the skeleton woman
kissed & caressed & blew new breath
into him to go there and die
& she had the bones
of a cheerleader
Ain't eating ice cream no mo
no mo no mo .,. Not answering
phone calls from Kellogg or Coke.
Not from the president.
Not from Jesus or Buddha,
with their bones hid safe,
all phones being burners,
or even the bones of chairman Mao
Oh no ho no oh no
He had the soul of a cheerleader.
A suitcase in the ditch.
Jammies with pink polka dots
burst out from the sides.
A chess game missing three pieces.
One empty Hello Kitty wallet
left to fade in the desert sun.
One unhappy story unknowable.
There were no bones of a cheerleader,
The very next day I don't know
if I am ever going to be okay.
She had the bones of a cheerleader,
an angel with no light for a day
of smokes torn to shreds for tobacco
in my zombie space alien pirate party tray.
Nothing more resourceful than a smoker.
Nothing to say to the devil running the day.
I have the bones of a cheerleader.
That's what the doctors say.
- Douglas McDaniel
Tolleson, Arizona
