It’s come to my attention that literary powerhouse This Recording links to us in their massive tl;dr blogroll! I am so flattered!
Monthly Archives: September 2008
ich hab’ keine Lust meine Pflicht zu erfüllen
Inspired by Nirvana’s “Scentless Apprentice” and Nina Hagen’s “Unbeschreiblich Weiblich,” I wrote some more song titles along the same lines: Phallogocentric Shmendrick Abstruse Masseuse Engorged Geordi LaForge Collegiate Eedjit Skinny-assed Cineaste Genderqueer Engineer Freestyling Skræling (I should note that “unbeschreiblich weiblich,” being adjectival, doesn’t technically fit in with these, but what the fuck.)
Palin-drome number 1
Because “All I saw: Wasilla” was too easy: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dumbelinathedaft/2877369709/
fuck off, I’m voting for Nader
This year’s Olympics of Banality are turning out AWESOME. Here’s a poem about consumer politics in America, specifically the pathetic Obama movement. I wrote most of it a few months ago. It’s in all lowercase with minimal punctuation because I didn’t want the typography to interrupt the doucheflow. It’s still pretty rough, but that’s the …
Thank you for your pohickory subsequent to iteration Maginot Line. However, your wornil was not selected for the first sprinkle iteration.
I wrote this little baroque-flarf gem in maybe early 2004 (although parts of it are older) and submitted it to a student publication at my alma mater. They rejected it, because they are idiots. the dying sonnet sacrifices its only begotten spazz-bastard for the future midget abortion trash sang in starry night of shit blinking …
Little Kid on a Stick
I’ve been meaning to post more, but my job is taking over my life. This is a short story/fairy tale that was originally part of a play I wrote in college. The play was also called “Little Kid on a Stick” and entwined two fractured narratives that I don’t really feel like talking about and …
early works, part I
Here are some poems I wrote when I was 11 or 12. The first one kind of peters out at the end. Fuck you, I was in sixth grade. It was probably my bedtime. The Refrygerator Refrygerator! Refrygerator! freezing bright In the kitchens of the night: What industrial gizmo or widget Could keep the meat …
babyfur
Here’s a poem I wrote in like 5 minutes, about a year and a half ago, about that magical subculture where furversion and adult baby fetishism intersect. It’s pretty terrible, but you’ll like it better when I turn it into a song. I’m thinking of programming it in Pure Data and making it sound like …
why are things the way they are? Τί ἐστιν ἀλήθεια;
Here are three biographical poems about important individuals of our time. I wrote them in early 2008. They’re not really clerihews, but what the fuck: 1. Richard Kern Improper kerning can make porno pomo, But if you don’t like Kern, you must be a homo. [I realize there are plenty of homos who like Kern, …
Continue reading “why are things the way they are? Τί ἐστιν ἀλήθεια;”
Norwegian Wood
This is the only piece of literature that we, the two authors of this blog (Smokehouse and Moral Authority), have written collaboratively thus far. It was inspired by an ill-advised (though totally awesome) encounter that I, Smokehouse, had with a certain Norwegian. I did indeed send this poem to its subject, much to the chagrin …