spider hacksaw eats & is eaten

There are no recorded dreams of me
ever having set foot
anywhere near the last place
i was said to be

No one ever saw me there
the local folk will tell
and I was never seen again
there are no recorded dreams of me
having ever been

the last thing anyone recalls
was that i had not survived
but no one could confirm
that i had ever been alive

there are no recorded dreams of me
this seems to be the consensus
this message was never sent
and no one will intercept this

there are no recorded dreams of me
there are no recorded dreams

(spider hacksaw)(2013)(©)

“The Cat Out of the Bag” by spider hacksaw.

“The sun was too hot and burning all day,
man-made global warming had made it that way
so we put on our bullet proof solar flare suits
and we pulled on our anti-radiation socks and boots
then we donned our helmets and gloves just the same
and we went out to play in the playground of pain
sadly enough we were quickly reversed
when we heard Reverend Phelps’ family shouting their curse
they told us to go back inside and to pray
they said “God hates the world because we are gay!”
so we ran back inside and we bolted our door
so we sat on the floor in our rooms where we hide
we sat on our floor in our rooms and we cried
we thought of escaping by method of suicide
we thought of a new way that we had not yet tried
as we drew a diagram of ourselves tied to a plow
from somewhere we heard a muffled meow
we looked all about, then we opened the floor
we never knew it hid a trap door
laying below in the dim light and dirt
we heard it again, something sounded hurt
it moved just a little inside its burlap bag
“Better not touch it, it might be a fag!”
—came the voice of Fred Phelps and his ‘god hates’ parade
so we closed up the window and pulled down the shade
then we went back to the door in the floor,
where we stood and we stayed and we stared some more
it could be a rabid weasel or a clown with mad cow
we shuddered to think, then we heard that meow
whatever we do, we can’t open that sack
it could be our older brother, high on meth or crack
it could be a trick, or our mother huffing glue
or maybe the genesis of some pandemic flu
our buzzing brains thinking, our eyes staring wide
we had nowhere to put it and nowhere to hide
we could close the door in the floor and try to ignore it
go on about our lives as we’d done before it
but now the problem was that we knew it was there
and all we could do was look down and to stare
it could be something “ICKY!”, or it could be something “WOW!”
then we heard it again, that muffled meow
we scratched our heads, and we scratched our chin
it caused a gooseflesh to cover our skin
“There’s a Cat in that Bag, I know it for sure
listen real close you can hear it purr
“We should open that bag and let it out.”
I wanted to scream, i wanted to shout
but instead i just whispered and imagined a cure
something inside like frankincense and myrrh
something inside that might make us pure
it could be a baby Hitler or maybe a bomb
or it could be a baby Buddha that brings peace and calm
we could stand here forever and wonder what’s inside
or we can close this trap door and wait to decide
whatever we do it can’t be put back
once we know what it is it’s going to be that
whatever it is it is what it is
whatever it was, it will do what it does
a drone or clone or a brain in a phone
a cure for cancer or a cat in a hat,
the cosmic mathematical answer we’ve been searching for
or something that will ultimately make everyone snore
it could be something worthless or something worthmore
whatever it is it’s going to be that
like a way to lose weight by eating just fat
perhaps it’s a tire that never goes flat
or maybe it’ll be, a Black-Death ridden rat
whatever it is it’s going to be that
and once it’s let out, it can’t be returned
if there’s one thing at all, it’s this i have learned
we looked at each other through the pools of our eyes
we looked at each other and let-down the disguise
whatever we find we can’t unfind
whatever we see we can’t unsee
whatever we hear we can’t unhear
so we dropped our worries and we dropped our fear
and once we had chased them far far away
our brain-sails started to sail for the first time that day
we reached down inside the door in the floor
we reached down inside and we reached a little more
as we untied the tie that bound the unknown
our brain-tails got excited like we’d found a new bone
our brain-tails got excited and they started to wag
as we untied the tie
and let the cat out of the bag.

spider.hacksaw(2013)

i wanna die alone in an apartment on the top floor in a heat wave from a brain aneurysm heart explosion combo and lay there undiscovered until my body breaks down from decay and maggots and i start to ooze blood and guts through the floor and drip into the ceiling light of the neighbor below me while he’s watching dancing with the fucking stars and i drip into his cup of yogurt and he almost eats me but smells the sweet evil stench of rotting flesh just before he wraps his fish hooked lips around the spoon of fruit imbued creamy delight and he gets up and calls the landlord and they trolly bobble their fat fuck fart filled asses up to my room and knock and knock and knock and buzz and buzz and buzz before finally letting themselves in….. to the unwelcoming stink of my busy buzzing fly swarming, maggot warming, liquid puddle of skin and flesh jello, now unfused from the wreckage of my bones. Then the downstairs neighbor realizes how much my rotted carcass reminds him of his yogurt and he projectile vomits his yogurt with fruit chunks into my pile of yogurt resembling remains. And when the body removers come to remove my gore, they have to scoop and scrape and chisel my hard dried gravy guts from the filthy floor into a bucket, which will then be dumped into a medical toilet and flushed to the sea. Where i will serve myself as supper to the mother from which i was born. The only home i’ve even known since my birth, my glorious loving cannibal, my mother earth.

i’m closin’ down this fool hall. God That. Rabid rain dear, climbing gulls crunching garbage souls, ahoy there matey, ’tis Captain Blind mind time, i’m gonna splatter that spittle gum bird drop bat shit crazy frozen slick peppermint stick sick poorly gotten gobbled rotten road rage rabbit stew, it’s what’s for dinner mother fucker, so lick it, suck that plate clean, or catch twenty-two welts to the exit of your spine, then you can leave this grief driven castle behind, but not before we chug this jug, and milk you hollow, an empty enemy of the violent kind, for we swarm and marauder goreward, over our kills and through their goods we go, beneath it all, glorious shiny skull of love above, this big skinny dipping sinner sipping off the surface of the moon shine your light upon the gracious face of the gobstopper god slaughtering heaven’s crew.

We all need to take a step back and thank the lord of cancer as we eat all their laughter, that nothing good or awful lasts forever, and never ever makes us remember what we do, or how we got so beleaguered and clever with such a frail depravity as to do what we do what we do when we do the Dew and drown our seven year old sorority ho sister in the sorrows of a good ol’ backstabbing Bar-B-Q Mitzvah, and hot tar and feathering good riddance party, to the glory of the billion dollar bay of pigs, patrolling our sewer streets, looking for grimy crimes to tweet and coat hanger stir in sugar sweet still born violet night silence, of lip balm molten lather cheery cherry heart murmur flavor that ain’t got no reason to alarm the war hog wart lords of mismanaged disaster planning,

because this ain’t your father’s Viet Calm Choir standing at the door, in the garden sky we see before us, as we bring the specialness of tooth decay and the lucky charm-free shooting spree of Harm’s Way to every corner of this defecated decaffeinated defective golden calf half empty glass Universe, freshness-sealed eternally in a wooden bell jar battleship hearse made of stolen stacks of collateral drainage rampage, camouflaged in twinkling brain damage, before being vacuumed clean and street smart mean from the floors of some tilted notion that all men are created in the sequel to the offerings of the days of our Gomorrah Bora war, painted on the walls within the bowels of King Goat Head’s starving belly bloated believers, as they lay frying and drying like raisins in the sun, with stink raising from the skunk of man, out in the stale open air, upon remote control wind-whipped jellyfish crawling bleached riverbed beaches, across this land of the hellish heavenly father, from one Walmart Smiley Faced Kingdom Come of the damned to its mother.

We call for a truce with the lamb of Got Milk, written in the alphabet bullet soup ink squirt gun zip tie lamentations and the sobbing cries of the undying paying praying patrons, ripped from the splinter filled eyes of glistening well fed and lovingly oil-rubbed machination guns, unloaded in to and out the other side of the mountain of flesh belonging to the recess rebel toddlers and hellion school children, delighting in ladybugs and gofer holes in the grass covered playground slums, and the mouths of the mothers of babes, clamoring for some twilight’s last gleaming damnation to be raised down upon this once proud stagnant nation.

Glory be to them that slam the doors of perception upon the faces of the crying snot-nosed wound-licking spiritually poor and their face lifted, vision averted, fiscally perverted, warrior whore class overlording sour power mower souls, for whom the bell whispers Glee, lost for the sake of velocity, in close captioned closed door meetings about nothing whatsoever at all jokes, over and over and over forever and ever, th-th-that’s all folks.

(GOD THAT) (spider hacksaw) (2013)

Dogtore Zombie Suess

I do so like the brains of man
and i will eat them if i can.
I like to eat brains with fresh flesh
i like to hear them slosh and squish

i will eat the life-saving brains of paramedics
i will eat the greedy brains of Wall Street pricks
I will eat brains under hats
I will eat them covered in tatts

I will eat brains with an eye
I will eat them in skull pie
I will suck them out the nose
I will eat brains with appetizer toes

I will eat the brains of a mobster
I will eat the brains of a pop star
I will eat evil brains of a pope
I will eat stoner brains smoked in dope

I will eat the funny brains of a clown
I will eat spilled brains off the ground
I will eat them in a Stan
I will eat them out of a Pam

I do so love the brains of man
and i will eat them if i can
excuse me Mr., Miss., or Mam
I’m a zombie, yes i am

(spider hacksaw)(2013)
(in honor of Dr. Suess and Zombies)

“it begins to ravel undulation day stars
in slight specific holy grammar roots of
demon speculative alienation training
a feeding frenzy flash and stab
eating mobster legs with bib rash for
laughs

we giggle drive-by slow through the alley
way shooting slogans from sewing machine guns
wishing this way and that removing
our heads with our hat
we freeze on a dime and turn frame
by frame the layers of clothes we have shorn

a distant maniacal mechanical messenger
has been sent forth
to worry us of impending ploys and leisures
that shall breach the breaker rocks
and cast us shadowless black entwine
someday soon God shall return our books,
riverbeds and lazy green summer time

where hell will no longer borrow
dragon oxygen of Parker and Barrow
someday soon heaven shall arrive
until then you can
watch me die live.”

(Parker&Barrow)(spider hacksaw)(2013)

Difftween : difference between. / used in a sentence(s): “What’s the difftween of a man and a machine?” /or/ “The difftween of you and me is registered in light years.”

from words&wurds&werdz by spyder haxzaw vol. 13 (2013)