his mind's the only thing he's blown apart


Laura Owens, Untitled, 2004

On The Road
-- Klipschutz

Ariel Sharon and Hosni Mubarak,
two monsters who forgot to quit breathing,
are still both hooked up to machines,
missing all the action, unmissed,
unwanted, neither dead nor alive.

“What a revoltin’ development!”
to quote Daffy Duck and William Bendix,
after the mess they created,
guilty and innocent blood mixed like paint,
peace talks without a prayer.

What a couple of comedians!
Hosni slaughtered them in Cairo,
Arik killed in Sabra and Shatila.
And then there’s their sons. . .
They ought to take their feeb act on the road.


Epitaph On A Tyrant
-- W.H. Auden

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.


The Pope's Penis
-- Sharon Olds

It hangs deep in his robes, a delicate
clapper at the center of a bell.
It moves when he moves, a ghostly fish in a
halo of silver sweaweed, the hair
swaying in the dark and the heat -- and at night
while his eyes sleep, it stands up
in praise of God.