My Content
K. Silem Mohammad

A: Moby Rape

World-caused infection—start squealing, Dopey.
Doodoo-head. Doughboy. Doggone right Iım
Angry—like a migrant fieldhand,
Stalled in the crossfire. The heart bitches
But it knows what it's got—a monopoly
On glissandos, reconnoitering Dunsinane,
The tubular litigations. Rape culture's gone
Global—so Patsy, you take a pail, and
Mick and Trudy'll follow, and the callbox is not far.
To whom will we bellow? To Nader, of course—
Tell him to get off his gotcha box and
Set up a heroin fund. Put some hair on
Your mom's chest for a change, ring up Dial-
A-Fascist. This ain't no "Tintern Abbey." My my I'm
Trying to describe complex emotions--
[Falsetto:] oh no, that's not it.... Jew Peter Pan
Sells fairy secrets to the Arabs, Tinkerbell
Really a North Korean—toward the end of the week
Even Milosevic starts looking tasty. Let's extinguish
Our dim perspectives, step in the moiréd spotlight,
And give this century the lamest what-for ever.

Sure proof the monster is ignorant—look
How it protects its interests, butt held up
To caution. Ah-oogah,
Say the surrogate claxons—save me a wing.
The male cuts up the non-male and calls it art.
Television just got a little bit friendlier,
And you too high on the soft market to refuse it.
Danger not a waiting area, nay rather a slab.
Dude, that's me you heard cussing—the word limit
Was imposed to an[ni]hilate prosody. Gold
Standards in the mist, strident evacuations, the mine shaft as inverted penis—
We must have gotten here after the Incredible Hulk
Went apeshit. Symbionese remnants
Wind up on the VCR--nautical seasoning, a foolscap.
All the instruments agree, the NASDAQ couldn't care less.
You Americans and your no-cal paella—was you
Ever bit by a dead Waco baby? I didn't think so.