Doug Anderson: That Old Shakespearean Rag


Vox Populi

Call me “u” one more time I’ll smear spittle
across the lead sky of your impoverishment.
Go ahead, bear-bait me at the edge
of this blood-clotted age with all the gimmie
and no vision to heal the feckless heels
hunkering over their gargoyling gold.
You laugh at my Jimmy Hendricks’ codpiece
all starred and striped and fuckhappy
against the black night of big-banged star-rout,
out, out, leaving you mind-dead dark.
Let me tell you there’s white fire in the earth-hearth
center swelling toward the great expulsion
of zomboid fragments floating out there
with the space junk and Power Bar wrappers.
Don’t you blink your dead satellites at me mutherfucker
I paid dues and my heart-bag’s full of things
too heat-seared for you to hold in your cold little claw.
That wire bud you got stuck in your ear
tapiocafying your brain’s not big enough
for the great word-grain bard-flung
from…

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