Drunken Poet Farts Thrice
By
Reinhard A. Palovcik

© 1998 Reinhard A. Palovcik
and FREDInk Records

Edited by Tom Miller





Bad Music

most music
these days
is pounded out
in simple rhythms
mindless

so much the better
if there is
no meaning
in the lyrics
or melody

if there were
it would intrude
on the artificial
copulatory
mind-state
these fools
are trying
to achieve
and they would
cease being
the decerebrate
sex machines
their mates
so crave




Business

we are all gathered
at the pub
drinking beer
rums and coke
margaritas
and Kahluas and cream

our waitress is new
hasn't yet got
the lay of the bar
and we sit waiting
sometimes as long
as 30 minutes
for the next drink

order food
and it is wrong
send it back
reorder
and it is still wrong

this was once
a good place
you could come here
to drink
and raise hell

the waitresses
were members
of local bands
or so beautiful
they were
fit to be models

although
the occasional beer
tasted of bleach
the service
was impeccable

how did things
deteriorate here
in so short a time

I'm sure
no one saw
it coming

even as the food
and drink suffered
uncaring masses
continued
to frequent
this place

the bar is still packed
nearly every night

success in business
sometimes
produces
the greatest failure




Jesus Christ

he looked
down on me
from the cross

sad eyes
above his beard
and said
"eat me"

this is my body
a wafer
that will stick
to the roof
of your mouth

this is my blood
drink of it
until you vomit

this is my shit
play with it
mold it
into the shape
of a rosary

and as you count
the pellets out
one by one
recite
these words:
"Satan is my angel
of salvation"

he will make me drum
a rhythm of sex
through the fingers
of my hands
and nerves of my cock

while some poor bitch
lurking in the shadows
on whom
I have fallen
will give birth
to a bastard
worse than me




Dull Day

I awaken
to another dull day
fix myself
a cup of coffee
and some oatmeal
head to the bathroom
brush my teeth
shave
take a shower
pull a towel
off the rack
and dry myself

there is a large roach
sitting on the sink
antennae
waving in the air
he looks
as bored
as I feel
so I let him live

I gave television
up years ago
haven't worked
for as long

now I read
the same books
over and over

everything
has a thick coat of dust
except for the toilet seat
and those few places
I walk, sit reading
or prepare a meal

I've never
felt so safe
no longer
fear death
even hoping
sometimes
that I
could sleep
and never
wake up

I'm waiting
for something
to happen
and yet
don't know
what it is
having given up
wishing
for anything
or anyone
to intrude




Gone

rounding the corner
I see him
lying propped up
by the gas station wall

bleary eyed
he begs me for change
his belly is swollen
and where his navel
should be
is a softball-sized lump
protruding
the pressure
of the fluid
has forced it out

he is terminal
liver failure
probably pancreas too
from a life of drinking

I give him no change
as he would only spend
it on alcohol

we call an ambulance
they come
he needs an operation
they say
and haul him off
to a hospital
but I know
he won't last
much longer
he needs a new liver
and these days
they only
go to the rich

and I wonder
will I some day
end up like him

 

How?

how do we
patch up this mess
owls bleeding
from their eyes
elephant trunks
blow wads of snot
on magnolias
whales swim
with their guts
trailing in the sea
drunken poets
roam the streets
stumbling over
carcasses of those
who can't write
though there is now
so much
to write about




Me Too

it's a medieval Monday
at the club and they are
whipping some fat
bitch in a skimpy black
leather outfit

I sit and write poems
trying not to look
in their direction
when a friend asks me
what I think of the show

yeah, I say
that's where all
the hamburger fat
goes when they
eat it

yeah, he says
they might as well
be whipping
a slab of meat

then read the first part
of this poem
to the master
of ceremonies

he laughs
and tells me
in an aside
that he really
only loves women
that look like
little girls

yeah, I say
me too

Rescue

one day
on television
i saw a group
of police
and firemen
rushing
frantically
to save
a dog
that has fallen
into a well
cutting
his clumped
wet fur
to free him
from a tangle
of roots

they risked
their lives
to save
the poor beast
but think
it was only
because
the video cams
were rolling

while thousands
of homeless
wander
the streets ill
and begging for change
there are no video
cameras there
nor any rescue workers

while televisions
proclaim the rescuers
as heroes
to a million viewers
the real heroes
are in the streets

plodding the sidewalks
surviving
from one day to the next
on next to nothing

 

It Takes Time

I've just turned 48
and am starting
to prepare for my death
I figure
it will take me
about 30 to 40 years

it has taken me
at least that long
to fail at life
and I don't want
to also screw up
my death

 

Tiger

I heard
the other day
a man was
bitten to death
by a Bengal tiger
his spine
severed at the neck

it took only one bite
a few seconds
before he died

cats are good that way
they have the instinct to kill
honed to a fine edge

it took them some time
to subdue the beast
and retrieve the body

after all that
they probably will not let
the poor animal live

it's a shame
they didn't let him
finish his last meal




(Untitled)

as a child of eight
I remember
walking
down the sidewalk
in a late 50's Detroit
and seeing a glint
of silver in the grass

tracked back
to check it out
it was a small
pile of coins
pennies, dimes
quarters

what the hell
I thought
a little treasure
just for me
I bent down
and gathered it up
it was now mine
no strings attached

I quickly headed
for the store
bought some
Mars candybars
my favorite
and some 10¢
model airplanes
I'd had my eyes on
for the last
several months

brought them home
put them together
and flew them
in the backyard
while munching
the Mars bars

my parents
came out to see
what I was up to

they watched me
for several minutes
and then came
the questions

where did you
get those?

where did you
get the money?

did you steal them?

did you steal
the money?

NO
I said
telling the truth
I found the money
in the grass
by the sidewalk
about a dollar
fifty's worth

they didn't believe me
and accused me
of sneaking
into my mother's purse
and stealing
her change
and wanted me
to confess

No
I said
I found it
honest
I found it

but the punishments
came
first for stealing
second for what
they thought was a lie

third
for sticking to it

they gave me
a beating
and lectured me
for hours
about the importance
of being honest
but I was a tough case
or so they thought
because I had
stuck to my word

finally I was forced
to kneel on the floor
my face in the corner
for hours
they wouldn't let
me eat or drink anything

and as the hours wore on
my life of eight years
played before my eyes
God and all I thought
was good at the time
began to crumble

I came to a realization
that my parents
were stupid
they didn't have a clue
about what
the truth was

and realized
if they couldn't
I couldn't trust
anyone else either

my world had turned
into a writhing hell
red flashed in my eyes
my knees hurt
I was crying

and began
to have thoughts
of cheating the system
telling them
what they wanted to hear
to make the pain stop

I told them
I stole the money
and thought
I could get away
with they lies
if I only stuck
with them
for long enough

and it worked
they forgave me
for what
I had never done
and hugged me
for telling
them
what they thought
was the truth
and I still knew
was a lie

I was free for now
but my world
had become
a very ugly place
I had nightmares
of finding more money
in the grass
and of my parents
burning in hell

communion wafers
stuck to the roof
of my mouth
and would stay there
for an hour

I stopped eating
the food made me
want to vomit
I lost weight
tossed and turned
in my sleep

as we drove
into the country
on bright blue
summer days
I finally came
to realize
that living
with my family
sharing food
television
and their lies
was better than
dying in a desert
on my knees
with the truth

Waiting

sitting here
with a dreadful
head full
of shit
I'm waiting
for the music
to start
performers
come to the stage
and do their stuff
but I'm still
waiting
drinking a beer
waiting
there is no one
around
except for me
and the band
two hours pass
and nothing
happens
there are more
days like this
in my life
than any other
I often feel
I'm waiting
to die
drinking more
and more beer
smoking more
and more
cigarettes
and waiting
waiting

but it never comes

Can't Go There Anymore

what is it?
I don't know

thought
you could
tell me

or maybe
give me
some idea

a hint

glint

of something

the sun
jaundiced
sickly yellow
basking in
its rays

or the moon
swiss and blue
with cheese
a crater-face guy
what's he thinking?

and venus
a nude
shrouded
in hot acid
clouds

mars
blushing
brushing
dusty red
from its face

jupiter
obese
staring at me
with its big
red eye

saturnalia
rejoicing
in its rings
at least it has
something to wear

neptune
in the cold depths
of space
sits in its orbit
with a trident
of moons

uranus
dirty brown
shit frozen
into a ball
of klingons

pluto
silly dog
lost in space
hardly noticed
at all

but where's mercury?
too quick
for this poem
he's escaped
behind the sun

and me?
where am I?
I don't know
thought
you
could tell me

 

Rats

these rats
rest heavy
on mind

I have killed
so many
in the name
of science

though they but rats
they also have lives

feelings
aspirations
I can see it
in their eyes
as they go
under the knife

and I'm beginning
to wonder
how many
of their lives
would equal to mine

I now
have another job
nothing to do
with rats
but can't help
wondering
about the negative karma
I have accumulated
with these dastardly acts

unknown to me
at the time
I killed them
for the sake
of science

but what is science
a bunch of academics
trying to promote
their careers

they don't care
much
about a few rats
not even
a million rats

but rats
have lives
too

they awake
at night
forage for food
and when they
find it
they rejoice
worship
a deity
with their own
meager brains




Screams of a Faceless Rat

One day
in a lab
where we used
to chop off
rats' heads
on a regular basis
it was my turn

I picked him up
by the scruff
of his neck

he hissed
and snapped
incisors lashing out
of his flaying head

but I had him
firm in my hand
his fate sealed

stuck his head
into the guillotine

my movements
were programmed
but in the last
fraction of a second
he twisted his head

and I had only managed
to chop off
his face

the front part
of his brain
exposed
his body writhed
so violently
it escaped
my grasp
and ran along
the floor

screaming
faceless
like a robot
out of control

ran into the wall
left a blotch
of blood there

turned ninety degrees
ran into the other
wall, left a blotch
of blood there

while the rest
of the scientists
in the lab
lunged in
to catch this thing

and failing
proceeded
to stomp it out

a profusion of boots
and heels
clapping the floor

scientists
interested only
in truth and logic

eventually
the bleeding
abomination
paused
and was caught
under a hell
blood spurting
three feet
out of its head

it was the end
of its misery
but not the end of mine
as I continued to dream
about the horror

face gone
running blind
like myself
through space
and the absence
of anything
in this scientific void