Meat in the Ground

by Violet Tiara

April 10, 2006

Toasters are boasters
and otters are modest
but the lotto
you bought
was for the wrong
archipelago.

Mangy changers
are deranged,
sez strange
Jessica Lange.

Druids love fluids
but who is
the wiser
the Kaiser?
On rye, sir,
that miser
misspelt Pfizer.

Fuck 'em.

Loosely
my tooth sings
of ribald
rococo.
Yoko
went loco
and toked all
my Midal
in a long bong
from Hong Kong
with tongs
from Longs
and songs
about John's
stained brainbeans
and Charlie Sheen's
love of Ween.

Cancer
is fancier
if called
carcinoma
Oklahoma
has roma
tomatoes
in pails
and bails
without fail
their sails
white sheets
in seas of wheat
and meat
in the ground
where peat
should be found
and backsweat
from the accident
rolled up in
rolling papers
that taper
to a point
of tip.

Milestones

1999: Raoul Dunkin's first play, The Touch of Love, is put on in the commune break room by giggling staff reporters who find it unguarded in Dunkin's desk.

Now Hiring

Park Ranger. Duties include curtailing activities of bears, from large-haired picnic-basket stealing fun-lovin' bears to savage, towering vicious grizzly bears. Encountering bears is unlikely within the office, but your presence should finally shut up bear-phobic Ivana Folger-Balzac.

Top Five Worst Things to Hear in an Iraqi Prison

1.	"Oh, wow! Hold still, let me get my camera!"
2.	"From now on, the conduct of corrections officers will be supervised by Private Pyle."
3.	"Looks like we're going to be here a while. Good thing I brought my harmonica."
4.	"These tattoos? Aryan Brotherhood."
5.	"And another thingâ€”you jokers have cried 'Rape!' once too often. I'm not falling for it anymore."

Nanotech Speckles
Nanotech speckles form freckles electronic, bionic and fair On my face and the space around as sound pleasing sound eeks from the sparkles there in my glittery hair Bear hair, cloned re-zoned to my bald scalp like carpeting the Alps like... (12/12/05)

Sentence
Gonads like nomads of the lowlands in snowpants eat Rolaids with barmaids, says no man to snowman and icicles ride bicycles as rice pickles sing Don Rickles and yellow bellows forth from the fourth porch painted by Enid and Crosby and Mick who,... (11/7/05)

The Sissy
If you call me a prick do I not cry? Bully, thine mouth offends me fuck it Was it not me who kept secret your smoking your out of class without a pass you hi-jinks and ne'er-do-wells? I reach out my hand and you turn it back to smack my own cheeks... (9/26/05)