Scream, You Monkey
by Laurence Trundle Lawrence 

Scream, you monkey
like the wrath of all
bananas was on your ass
or like you just found out
your Visa card was rejected.
That’s right, you ape
with your little hat and jacket
you thought you had it all figured out
not so smug now, are you, Mr. Jitters?

I saw the best mimes of my generation destroyed
by a mulatto with a flame thrower
and a huge man-eating whale with rubber tires
oh my God he’s coming!
I can hear his pant legs rub together
like the breathing of asthmatic Neanderthals.

The night is smoking
shitty women’s cigarettes
and slithering like a turd
out of a toothpaste tube.
I can hear it squeaking
across my chalkboard downstairs.
That’s right, I own a chalkboard,
what’s it to you?

Crazy people decorate my windows
I crazyglued them up there
at first I tried staples
but staples don’t stick to glass
they really should mention that on the box
so you don’t waste six bucks
on a huge box of staples that are no help.

Women, ha!
What do you want to know about women?
I read a book on women once.
It was confusing.
But there were pictures.
Women look good in pictures.

The fog sits on the city
like a big smelly blanket
with a cigarette burn hole
which has a plane flying through it
and skyscrapers poke the blanket
like boners or something
and also fog is wet.

I once saw a shoe full of blood
like a cup of soup
—but weird—
I wondered who was wearing that shoe
and who was wearing that blood
like socks on their veins
only on the inside
like inside-out socks.
Or actually their veins are more like the socks
and the blood is like the feet
so it’s kind of funny there was blood in the shoe like that.

I talked to a man with a golden head
totally made of gold
I’m not shitting you, gold
okay maybe I am shitting you
but it’s a poem, get over it
anyway, his head was made of gold
and he told me wonderful things
but I forgot them all because
I was just thinking of how much I could sell his head for.

And then the sun came up
like a piece of toast
and I buttered the sun.
And the monkey screamed
because he was hungry.

The Walrus Said
The time has come, the walrus said, to smoke a box of crack. Fucking walrus! Stay out of my drug box, and you’re standing on my sack!

The Truth About Ice Cubes
I’ve heard ice cubes scream, like unpleasant human beings, when I dunk them into my drink. I’d say they’re alive, don’t you think?

Frombnabula 7
The silence was broken by the burping of space mice, and then it was quiet until McDumfrey sneezed thrice. “Shit!” cried out Rooter. “Space shit!” yelled Perdue.

Tits Are in the Eye of the Beholder
I think that I shall never pass, a poem as lovely as an ass, or a verse that weighs as heavy as a buck-naked supermodel straddling a Chevy.

Lunch Money
Listen up, Billy Olson: I’m a drink you up like Molson, make you sing like a fat Al Jolson—grab your tits and milk ‘em both, son.