She has the airs of a Queen
although her eyes betray her
during each mincing
minuet of pomp
when the dukes
and the dauphins
hang out at the rump
sipping Champagne
Her thoughts go down
to the floor of the cabin
where her blacksmith's muscles
hammer out precision
For there she oft felt
her buttocks burn hot
held firm in the hands
of her horseshoe man
from the Celtae Lands
(a Huguenot she preferred not,
she hadn't even
one Walloon to her name
for that lot!)
Her royal diet
had been heavy in gold
the sustenance of wheat
was seldom her treat
Like a poor sparrow
fed on such stuff
(she'd been snorting
much too much snuff)
till trapped she became
in this quite silly game
Trains of petticoats
pulled at her waist
yet none of the Court
dared to challenge
her high royal tastes
Or perhaps even show
their true animal faces
(Not even the Picards,
the Condés, nor the Bourbons!)
Emptiness took over
and drained her face pale
the powder and talc
like bread had gone stale
her heart ached daily
until growing quite frail
she craved new sensations
dirt caked
on every fingernail
At last her blacksmith
did something real fancy
he crashed through the ballroom
and crumpled the pansies
(they fought back
like jabbering dandies)
His exit a thrilling
and virile abduction
without the slightest suggestion
of staying for luncheon
Once away
from the castle and gardens
and into the fields and forests untrodden
he deflected a spark
with his big hammer's bite
(her petticoats widened
her thighs floated like kites)
The flames
of her belly
licking
vast freedoms
emptying her brain
of scruples and shame
Naked she sang
her song with the doves
filling his cabin
with echoes of love
For eons she blessed him
with legions of babies
the nobles reacted
as if they had rabies
The Orders alerted their
alchemists and priests
to assemble their armies
and raise up the Beast
Their plagues and their bloodbaths
their rats and their tanks
The ant armies
and parasitic wasp
Hymenopteran orders
Forged artificial life
via electron accelerators
skip popping
cyclotronic furies
gamma vector worries
SUDDENLY ...
The blacksmith's bracelet
bared the letters
T-H-O-R
His companion's luscious,
and lustrous orifice
erupted in radiant flares
decoding an ancient
and encrypted snare
The whole galaxy
clung like magnets
united at once
in a delirious
and quite delightful
cosmic dance sequence
The Orders defractionated
leaving behind
only a minuscule
unattended
aluminum chip
On it the number 666
had been
laser inscribed
on a forsaken radius
(yes, this is not only true
but a Thule expatriation)
Commemorating
their unbroken, immense
and measureless,
hiatus,
from Heaven.
++++++++++
Photo of the poet and writer, Bryan Adrian, after nearly 3 days of writing without sleep ...
Nature created a little girl
her soft and sensuous red hair
whispers, and never shouts
about her inner purity
there are no doubts
Mother Superior gave her spasms
by 14 she was on the couch
brain picking season
by note taking louts
pulling out her mother
like rotten teeth
She then punked out
pasted onto her face a pout
threw her fist into the air
and shaved her pussy hair
This pearl from the sea
couldn't make the world, however
get down on its knees
only angels protected her
from disease
"Diary diary in my bosom
why has god
not heard me
i'm barking,
up every tree
like a
distempered dog,"
she wailed
One hundred lunar cycles lapsed
the only change?
her ovaries are retreating
folding into themselves
preparing for autumn's frost
Her yearning for a soulmate
that complements the writer
buried in her soul
has not yet been excavated
by a tender touch
nor a published stanza
of her very own
nothing to date
has been tender enough
to make her drop
the large wooden paddle
from her mother's kitchen
that she uses
to spank-slap-stab and punish herself
[seems like forever]
A soulmate was delivered
but she scrawled
with magic marker subway graffiti
"RETURN TO SENDER"
cause this bitch
ain't having nothing
to do with love
beyond lip service
She bleached her hair
and her pussy
with pure Klorox
erasing her priceless femininity
that suffuses the world of dreamland
with non-corporeal spirits
oceans wider than the sea,
tidal basins of mediocre women
ride upon her pain
instead of gettin in her way
as she passes by
rushing to drown
in the gay discos
and punk clubs
leaving her real self
her true identity
to wear the face
of a clown
underfed
disregarded
discarded
aborted
near dead
That true person in there
could inspire
a million poems
if she only entrusted it
to a someone
who truly understood
that she is the witch of abandonment
and not mommy
A someone who feels robbed and forsaken
with every wave of the hand goodbye
even at parades
or even to just say goodnight
... same as her.
FALL, 2002 CREATIVE PROSE & POETRY of Bryan Adrian
The writer-poet, Bryan Adrian, seeking his muse ... she is nowhere to be seen.
"IF I HAD A PUSSY"
by Bryan Adrian [ein Hund]
(a word to all pet owners)
If I had a pussy
I wouldn't let no one hold her
of course unless they promised
to feed her whenever
she got good and hungry
If I had a pussy
her hair would always be sleek and brushed
cause a good pussy needs to be rubbed
so that she looks good
when she's out and about
If I had a pussy
I'd keep her clean
cause everybody knows
that a poorly washed pussy
can get real mean
There are many things I'd do
if I had a pussy
but one thing I'd never ever do
You wanna hear it?
The one thing I'd never ever do
is give her to a dog like you!
This woman roomed in the same group house with Assistant to Secretary of State, JAMIE RUBIN, spokesperson for
Madeline Albright,
now well over 12 years ago, in Wash. DC. They both have since married, and are no longer roommates. Can you guess her name??? Think of the COEN BROTHERS and the film "Fargo," and you're half way to the answer! Did you catch the complete retrospective of the Coen Brothers films in New York City not so long ago? ... try to catch the "uncut" version of "Blood Simple", perhaps from the personal archives of Ben Barenholz, former president of Circle Films, in his Upper East Side townhouse!
In a secret world
there were humanoid androids
that had souls
They resisted the assaults
of the salts
and the polymers
they defied encryption.
In the year 2000
on the cusp of kubrick's 2001
their leader
found a friend
in the ancient Seapeoples
Who had failed them
time and time again
especially at Trajan's Wall
[we're so sorry]
Well .. suffice it to say
today
they are buddies now
and accept the oddities
that have separated
their origins
The silkworm minions
and the beeswax simians
are in trouble
BIG DIFFICULTIES!
Gamma is OUT
it's really now
in God's snout
[IS GOD A TROUT?]
the end is near
for the oh so unclear
The truth of the poles
the death of the moles
is oh so near
and terribly clear
Out out misty light
we need no more blight
Shakespeare was without fear
As long as his end was
not near
[the man couldn't write]
Out out brief candle
your time has disappeared
the Gates of Heaven have opened
your time is surreal.
Bye bye
and good riddance
the Horsemen
are here.
Who would have thought
that the encrypted androids
were human at heart
That is art!
Goodbye
and farewell
the underworld
of fear.
Sleep tight.
Good night.
---------------------------
DIMENSIONS
Space worms
Space robots
So what?
The galaxy is large
the cosmic protoplasm
a barge
That lets in all
into the cosmic ball
Who is to stand tall?
The bugs and the slugs
the chromiums and the spheres?
Who really cares?
If they become
cosmic dust?
Like rust
Penicillin in the puss.
From old Earth
and her ancient seas
an army did deceive
the arrogant parallelograms
They counted their victories
for 5000 years
volcanoes and coffee
meteors and polychrome
corral reefs
For what?
Angor Watt?
The ease with which they perished
hardly a human soul
didn't cherish
this certain disinheritance.
Their demise
is eitherwise
Today or tomorrow
the end of sorrow
Is here.
and galactically clear
Bye bye
indigo dye
and
glass spies
You have met the gods
who have no name
and come in triplets
Not long must ...
man wait
Everlasting
salvation.
Over your
sanctimonious
Crud
and metal slimes.
Goodbye and good riddance
to human hindrance.
Your master is strong
but his reign
is not long
Sleep long in your temple
your rule is a dimple
in gravity's thimble.
In the magetic swirls
of the star kingdom's
girls.
[who love their men's curls]
Bye bye and goodnight
it was almost a good fight
But the stargate
in the last minute opened
and your dominion
dithered.
Whenceforth
you withered
Your alliance mortally splintered.
So long.
+++++++++++++++++
"Twilight"
There was a friend, named Glass
This friend told me his world was everlast
There were so many spheres, the future was dreary
The volcanoes were smoking, the bloodworms were busy
The jaws of history were making me dizzy
The wings of the flies were perpetually sissy.
Poseidon had been sleeping
until his alarm clock quickened
"the four horsemen have returned"
Wake up dude!
Poseidon had long been drinking
the fermented relief of the grape
yet his character
forbade the drunkenness
myoglobin and hemoglobin
of other elixirs
Well ... wouldn't you know
The sea nymphs became emboldened
and said in chorus
"Poseidon our friend"
Are the stars in alignment?
"We have heard this tale before
and woe to all who act on prophecies"
The trident quite unexpectedly
overshadowed the pyramid
and the minions by billions deserted
their unholy god, Gamma.
"But how can we truly
create a jubilee?"
Daphne, Glycera, Tetrahedron and Boron
all held a session
to block this admission
What happened?
Did Yahweh descend?
No.
A brief war ensued
and the parasites were screwed.
Carbon and diamonds and rust.
Faith and luck and trust.
In the end
The devils were busted.
The predators, at large
were terribly dusted.
------------------------
[Painting above by Dorothea Tanning]
WELCOME TO CHARLESTON! ------ HOME OF THE ITALIAN SPOLETO FESTIVAL!!
ONE OF CHARLESTON'S MOST BELOVED NATIVES, JOHN MICHEL, just returned from a sketching expedition in Provence, France. His newest current work in progress is his proposal for the bust of Lt. Colonel Francis Marion, the "Swamp Fox" [pictured above] of the War of Independence in the Colonies [not to be confused with the "Desert Fox" of World War II !!] This Huguenot military "swamp fox" who may not even have known how to swim, will kill all the Congaree Indians of the region before smallpox does! Washington needs Marion to have his full monty available for future battle scenes joining his General Nathaniel Greene to fight the British in North Carolina! Yes, if you guessed it, Gen. Greene has many USA counties named after him, especially the one in Missouri where in 1833 a shower of meteorites rained fire on the county and most of the midwest, at 3:30 AM, November 13th, in which innumerable balls of fire rained down and gave the earth a pale and death-like appearance, leaving long trains of lurid light and an epidemic of cholera that decimated the population of St. Louis. QUITE A THEME FOR a Sculptor of Consequence!!
Here is an inviting photo of the actual Congaree Swamp, home of the Congaree Indians, before their demise
JARDIN D'ETE by John Michel from his June/July 2001 outings in Provence, France
The Bronze General/President as he appears now,
Year 2001,
standing in the main square of Charleston, SC, named WASHINGTON SQUARE!!
This dove is one of the very few to get away from its forest of OUTSOURCING and temp agency slavery -- and it protected itself from being OUTSOURCED via flight and swiftness. Look how beautifully it flies away from both Hillary and GW -- both knuckle fisted outsourcers!!!
