Thursday, May 17, 2012

Nearest Neighbor (Ralph Nadir)




Scarcely  a moment goes by
when I am not Ralph Nader:

“What then is the heft of our collective vomitus, O Haruspex?”

What then, or by what will,
would Lot in infinite vision, turn away from husbandry

EITHER FOR OR AGAINST

What fox
does not revel at
being pulled from its hole
and shown to the sun
as a red stain
before the galactic panting?

Scarcely a moment goes by
when I am not the destroyer of worlds,
blank, capricious, and wholly mad,
a whirlwind of indifferent formality.

no entry
no exit

hex tree
try it
vomit

the elegant vomitus of nodality
its heft
as the leaping fox
through silver brocade //

I dream of dead Nietzsche
in a space suit on Mars
his skull like a bird’s egg
sheltered in the nest
of an undead mustache//

now go on
you have to be scary today.