Saturday, June 7, 2008

Some Notes on the Life of Wernher von Braun


Wernher was the first to theorize the existence of Tang.

For a few short weeks in 1944 Wernher personally added 10% more love to each V-2 rocket launched toward London.

Wernher had the second largest collection of used human skulls in the western hemisphere.

Wernher enjoyed the occasional wine spritzer.

As a child Wernher dreamed of becoming a concert pianist, but at the age of 8 his dreams were dashed when his fingers were mangled in a beer hall putsch.

Wernher Von Braun's real name was a state secret from 1945 until 1968.

Gospel Accordingly




1. Put my sins behind your back, saving one for the sleeve.
Death cannot sing your praise.
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
but do not be afraid.
The flesh cannot count the sheep of your worry.
Save your manna for the dogs,
eat my words oh prisoners of trust.

The stock market rises and falls but the interest lasts forever.

Traverse the eye of the needle head first,
listen for the present’s eternal bellow.
Watch the fool pick ocean glass for the sky fish
born from all this ferocious change.

God haunts the simplest questions:
What time is it? How are you doing?
When will it stop raining?

2. God haunts military idioms:
Death count.
tactical maneuvers.
Private. General.
Yes sir, no sir. Right away sir.

The general calls for a surge, but he is a private man.
He has spiritual experiences. He appreciates the joy or randomly satisfying
bowel movements. He prays for lower taxes, for his daughter’s Harvard admittance.
He bemoaned the demotion of Pluto to the lower ranks of planetoid.
Is there no justice, indeed.

3. The air strikes your fancy. Your fancy car,
your extensive digital music collection.
It’s in the atmosphere, the blood of your fancy.

Play poker with my sins. The ante will be low, like smoking in front of a baby.
The stakes, dramatic: like losing your soul to Wal Mart.
Bluff death at your own peril. Fold to beauty for beauty’s sake.
Stack my sins in neat columns, but don’t count them.
Better yet, lose all count.

If you find yourself wandering through the valley of Hamon Gog,
you know you’ve lost. You’ll have to listen for my voice
shaking the lupin that cover the countless graves.
This is what I’ll say:
“As you go through the land, if you see a human bone,
set up a marker beside it until gravediggers have buried it.
There you will eat the flesh of mighty men
and drink the blood of princes of the earth
as if they were the rams and lambs, goats and bulls –
all of them fattened animals from Washington.”

4. You are helpless, pigeonholed by a rival deity;
dear friends let us love one another.
Dear friends, keep yourselves from idols.
Rahab, the prostitute is here to set you free.

What good is voting when her tongue
has a much more selective imagination?
What good are words when her moans call the moon
to shine through your ceiling?
Like the breeze in a forgotten painting,
You will become her masterpiece.

Love her, love her, love her…
Even as the bread is leavened and the Romans raise another cross.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Finish Me


For reasons that may or may not become clear all the participants in this poem have been named Bill. This, like all things, both clarifies and conceals. After wasting enough time on language one begins to grow hungry, as if giving birth to a train on an unhappy occasion. First get yourself some fireworks and a bonfire-- something approaching a calamity, but without all the trappings of emotion-- and make sure it is big enough to reach all the places you have concealed...


Monday, May 26, 2008

The Saint


(This was forwarded to me, writer unknown)






President George W. Bush was scheduled to visit the
Episcopal Church outside Washington as part of his
campaign to restore his pathetic poll standings.
His image handler made a visit to the Bishop and said, 'We've been getting a lot of bad publicity
because of the president's position on stem cell
research, the Iraq war, hurricane Katrina, and the
Veterans Administration. We'll make a $100,000
contribution to your church if during your sermon
you will say that the President is a saint.'


The Bishop thought it over for a few moments and
finally said, 'The Church is desperate for funding -
I'll do it.'


Bush showed up for the sermon, and the Bishop
began: 'I'd like to speak to you all this morning about
our President who is a liar, a cheat, and a
low-intelligence numb -nuts who can't put a compound
sentence together. He bugged out of combat service during the Vietnam
war and went AWOL to avoid a drug test, then had all
reports on the sordid event destroyed. He is the spawn of a Nazi loving great grandfather
who smuggled anti-Americans into this country on
his shipping line. He took the tragedy of September 11 and used it to
frighten and manipulate the American people.
He lied about weapons of mass destruction and
invaded Iraq for oil and money,causing the deaths of
tens of thousands and making the United States the
most hated country on earth. It is a three-trillion
dollar folly. He appointed fund-raiser cronies to positions of
power and influence, leading to widespread death
and destruction due to government paralysis after
Hurricane Katrina. He awarded no-bid cost-plus contracts and tax cuts
to his rich friends so that we now have more
poverty in this country and a greater gap between rich
and poor than we've had since the Depression.
He has headed the most corrupt, bribe-inducing
political party since Teapot Dome. The national surplus has turned into a staggering
national debt of 7.6 trillion Dollars.
Oil rose from $18 to over a hundred per barrel,
leading to transportation costs which the people
of America cannot afford, with low minimum wages,
part time jobs, no health insurance, and outsourcing.
Vital research into global warming and stem cells
is stifled because he's afraid to lose votes from
religious kooks. He is the worst example of a true Christian I've
ever known, but compared to Dick Cheney...
George W. Bush is a saint.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

How to Write a Novel

Hide the title. Give them a reason
To find it.

2 Haikus

English Major Haiku
Albetross fell from
the sky In mariner’s poem
Bad shit happened

Reality Haiku
Albetross flies into
wifi tower In starbucks
You tube happens.

Evolution

Great parody of life, I am here to honor you
throw me a bone you fool,
don’t insult the baboon by calling me one:
he climbs magnificent trees.
I watch CNN.