| Rot disease doc cowers sly. |
| Bigot’s digest blacklist
|
| Trade. |
| Homophobic? |
| Barb’s pro-life? |
| Fist happy
|
| Conservative. |
| White gold home shopping cross. |
| Vinyl
|
| Infant nailed Jesus style. |
| Huddled ignorant cult of
|
| Chumps sobbing
|
| Himmler cops sip raisin rum. |
| Christmas eve
|
| December bliss. |
| Tossed balloons of santa paint splash
|
| Lovell and south rose. |
| Watch grandma’s swastika
|
| Taunt dad’s foundation walls. |
| She expressed ice nerve
|
| And speech, and they know I’m more left than right
|
| Burn the country clubs. |
| Rich white man. |
| Scared white
|
| Man. |
| This is me, face turned wry. |
| Snow
|
| Electric my passion punch. |
| Sheep test the artichoke
|
| Kill liddy. |
| Love Stanley III. |
| Days of height and
|
| Milbrook house; |
| and I wonder of April 16th? |
| Wavy
|
| Gravy and Ram Das. |
| And I’m reading the oracle, and
|
| I’m feeling more god than straight. |
| Burned beneath the
|
| Lids. |
| Hoffman’s here. |
| Krassner’s there. |
| Kids will play
|
| Load Jim’s .44 behind the ATM. |
| Await Mercedes
|
| Benz. |
| Sugar man behind the wheel. |
| Shoving cocked
|
| Piece to his cheek. |
| Have him pull his max in green
|
| George called it «War on Drugs», but I call it «War on
|
| Love.» |
| War on all my friends. |
| Leave us free to choose
|
| And be. |
| This is me. |
| Rubbed in shit. |
| Old shoes. |
| Huge
|
| Clue
|
| (II) Who Took My Holiday Inn Bible?)
|
| Protestants. |
| Catholics. |
| Jews. |
| Islam. |
| Baptists
|
| Lutherans. |
| Mormons. |
| Orthodoxy. |
| Christian science
|
| Jehovah’s witness. |
| Methodists. |
| Episcopalians are
|
| Falling down
|
| Blend it, religions crime. |
| Grind it, religion dies
|
| (III) I’d Rather Hide Than Be Dead, But I’d Rather Be Dead Than Dumb)
|
| Humpback slitting sicily. |
| Exxon glaze. |
| Ramming
|
| Japs. |
| Blood gushing raw blowhole. |
| Crone whale
|
| Lambasting death. |
| Sand scraped and forcible shored
|
| Metaphor lays mucked and dies. |
| I laugh, «I know what
|
| She’s doing. |
| She’s choosing her final time. |
| Hemingway
|
| Like grave. |
| What is land is lost at sea.» |
| This is me. |
| Face
|
| Torn blind. |
| Ribs cracked. |
| Tongue lost |