going green

as i was watching an O.B. tampon
forgotten in the washing machine
during the spin cycle
i remembered someone told me 350 times to save the environment...

what a perfect way to start...

My sister is drinking listerine to get drunk
She laughs about how green the world has become
She shaved off all her hair
Donated it to wig companies
My sister believes bald is good
Make clothes out of human hair
Dress statues of Hitler in dresses of pink hair.

My sister is drinking listerine to get drunk
Her best friend's father has a human skull
in his basement - "An Indian skull".
Given to the family as an heirloom.
A symbol of the old west.  I wonder if an Indian
somewhere holds hostage a white man,
Threatening his skull with a kiss.

My sister believes we should use the bones of the
dead for tools of sex.  She is drinking listerine to get drunk.
"It's cheap.  The government
doesn't tax it, can't make weapons when I drink it."

My sister is pulling off her toes nails to send to
the bank.  She is asking for a loan.

Seven days ago Magen
wore her Chilian gold necklace
it danced under hot stage lights into
the eyes of those attending the

"Environmental & Sustainable Conservation Society of the Endangered Chrysophyllum Conference"

Four thousand eight hundred miles away
Mario Gómez curses and swears at the rocks crushed
                   for the sunshine worn round Megan's neck
his wife and children sleep with their eyes open
                   staring at the cracked ceiling
while their husband, father, friend, lover
                   suffocates under millions of tons
                   earth two thousand feet beneath
                   their hearts

Magen's ignorance
is a finely trimmed and kept lawn
stretching out before her sorbet colored
suburban home

Some Pope
One thousand four hundred twenty
years ago called this
"extravagance"

A deadly sin then.

A sin known
to us
as lust.

Someone has to be fucked
for the things we want

Over seven thousand years ago
Abraham (or so the story goes)
after plowing his wife's wet fertile
crescent in the orange light of dawn
cast seeds of farro to the dancing wind

He watched as the chaff was
driven forth like dust and waited
for the wheat to take root
and bear hard dry fruit

"Yea, the lord shall give what is good
and our land shall yield her increase."

Seven days ago Philip sat in his cubical
staring at the Monsanto shipment figures
bound for Idaho

The elastic band of his underwear
was still wet after quietly masturbating
to Lada Gaga's Bad Romance music video
on youtube, paused and muted at three minuets
and one second

On his potato farm in Idaho, one thousand miles away,
the Mormon Joseph drives his green John Deere
preparing his fields for the dispersal of Monsanto's
herbicide he bought on loan again this year

Listening to the fire of the engine, Joseph
thinks of his sixteen year old son who
died of a brain tumor two years ago

Joseph, intoning with the engine whispers

“I would that ye should always remember,
and retain in remembrance, the greatness
of God and your own nothingness...”

Seven hundred and sixty eight miles
to the northeast, Eva
(a single mother
who only eats the trunks of muffins
with her black coffee)

buys a bag of Idaho
potatoes with the last of her twenty dollars
she got for licking the nipples and cock
of a lonely man who said his name was Tim

The Mormon Joseph didn't know
the metal vats his son helped move
with sloshing Monsanto herbicide could
seep into the blood of his only son and
kill him with cells that refused to stop
multiplying

Joseph's ignorance sits
like the stagnant muddy pool of water
on rainy autumn days at the edge of his field
near the crumbling paved road that's always
empty

Someone has to be fucked
for the things we sell

green is good
i'm thinking to myself
drinking the last 2 drops of absinth

this time i won't roll tires...
i'll roll myself.

i’ll roll on my back,
as a salut to Mr. Samsa
roll as the roach of feelings I’ve become

My little metamorphosis of going green

Green with envy
Cause somebody else is living my own dream…
Screaming: “die verwandlung!”, saluting to imaginary statues
Running down the street in my green vapor uniform

green is good.
my eco friendly road to oblivion
on which i roll 350 degrees...

roll, roll. roll
My forgotten tractor wheel