Warning: the following poem contains strong language and ideologically-sensitive material. Reader discretion is advised.

Shredded nightgown
Rag curlers
Muffet’s muscular balloon
I think it’s a girl

The contents of my stomach
Happily digesting
Ginger’s magic
Dried and dipped
Sugar tits

Bonnie wants a boob to suck
Billy wants a goat to fuck
Peeling limbs
Like citrus skins
Their avatars advertise
Jack-‘o’-lantern grins

What’s fashionable
Isn’t able-bodied
Lame inside
The sorcerer’s stone
Equipped with a potty mouth
And southern clout
Withheld within
A melee of warmongers
Cavalier bards hired
To joust wits upon the whims
Of soda pop science fiction kids

Boos and jeers
Hurt my ear
So I bongo in third person
To see Death off
On her maiden voyage
Luxury cruise
Jackpot winner’s joyless

She can’t stand the side of my face
Because it stands in her way
And I stand up to the
Immune to worrying
About rote memorization
Even apes can learn to read

Misses her dad
I wish it were true
But I don’t believe
A single speck
In tools solely built
To fool
Sending ‘specially-for-you
Bouquets of letter-opening hacks
Raconteurs like racketeers
Down here
Dungeons reek of profiteers

Selling cells
Round 18
Keep score
All in favor
Of cannibalism
Or its euphemisms
Grand new world vision
Presidential fling
Sunday kisses the blood
Off the papal ring

He’s singing
About the shortcuts
To my veins

Though mute
My razor’s protest
Slipknots verse
Penned not in vain


“Bad Nut”
© Jane Bled 2018
All Rights Reserved.

Jerry’s Nut House © Jane Bled

I could watch her go down the chute on repeat.