i was in the lion's mouth
the day they bombed bin laden out,
the night they bombed the fucker
who bombed the fuckers who rule the world
i watched it from a brooklyn flat
the president a slender cat
tv spat out words like rats,
their bodies blossom and unfurl

i caught the greyhound out of town
through subways trembling in the sound
of cloven bodies whirling round
the axis of our land
through port authority, gaping hole
and easy target, lincoln tunnel,
burrow beneath the skin of my soul,
combust (come bused?) back up to ground

some central pennsylvania station
saw glen beck address the nation
news in some new permutation,
comment from a can
said, "now we realize obama's failure--
oops--i mean osama--
well, god bless our americana
and you and freud be damned."

cleveland fox brought on a band,
rode horseback from dixieland
oopahed out an anthem grand
and if that ain't the news--
callers-in gave us the scoop,
"thank you god, thank you troops,
but we want the body close at hand,
live on pay-per-view."

i know that words won't make us free
they've all been chewed by our enemies
a mangled, tangled, hackery
that cleave us from our home
i bundle up my words and hurl them
at the fucks who bomb the world
and they, coherent hymns return
against my antiphone

toledo, where border patrol
pulled all who smelled of mexico
out off the bus to the depot
with handcuffs and a grin
"well, we bombed out the mohammedans
who bombed our freedom market land,
damn right we'll cuff them mexicans
who think they can just walk in,
who think they can just start working."

fuck the songs your children sing
fuck our mountains' freedom ring
fuck the party, fuck the cop
fuck the gun, fuck its crop
fuck our fear, fuck its spawn
fuck our vacant lexicon
fuck our pride, tongue is dumb
fuck our pandemonium
grow up with war--well, fuck it too,
fuck the red, white, blue
and fuck the green and fuck the gold
and shit, the pentamanifold,
causticasian polyanus
parashittle valedictatious
magnifunction crucedible
crack the crown, gape the hole,
creditable bifurcasian
frock the credible!
defrock the credible!

i was in the lion's mouth
the day they bombed bin laden out
i groped through the gaping jaws
of a television screen
and every word was chewed to bone
and hobbled alone and not (quite) alone
and i, i whispered antiphone
against the scripted scene


i'll be making you a part of me


from sketches around a city, released September 4, 2011




peter j hochstedler South Bend, Indiana

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