I. Thrilla

Dark in here isn’t. Mescaline
sky’s made of blue chaos. Duck,
goose. Tilt. Missing
Mister demeanor in the midst. Guest
idolator. Swinging a cat in an empty
room. When you’re out of thud. And 
all nights are grey.

II. Dork

But we expected an unanticipated
change. Air and a spare. Tired of life?
Lift you’re off. Lump of
nod. A chime in the lit critter, 
First Librarian. A chimp in the political
climax my ass.

III. Bombastique

Stand this way. Word. Bustier.
Skull. Those weren’t civilians. That was 
my wife. We had a blast.
Honorary tourists by proxy. Our
glorious. A man’s gotta do the dude. Armless
revelry. Don’t. Please don’t. Pass the fault.
Dogs took one whiff of that and. Bleep.
Hoo-boy. Laughed myself
sick bastard.

IV. Panjandrum

Say there. How many sallies.
With maniac-agressive names.
Ill winned. Doomgobble. Penis
but Sir. With rue or wry. Jam it in.
Both barrels. Pompous as. Candles
burning. Nighty-night. Wake me when
we get to Babylon.

V. Kulturschock

So I’m like into non-
academic contraconceptual
pro forma performantic art:
in-law incest, outlaw bikers,
implants, impiety, impenitence,
impatience, imperfect tenses, 
impetigo, perforations, porn 
impresarios, perfect ab-
ominations, blue pills,
black metal, surgical
steel artifacts, leather-
slaves with cock rings,
but I’ll confess to
a major fetish for
bull roasts, full-im-
mersion baptism,
and big white
weddings. Awww.

VI. Float

Tropical paradox. Don’t
make waves. Give it up
for lost. Ethnic shuffle.
These buses are reserved
sitting. City of opportune
knocks. Smug flyover. A
little redistribution. This is
not my beautiful.

VII. Makes Fiends Easily

Whatever we say it’s not.
O dear! In’t doom, et tu on’t.
Emperor of melted ice.
Cream of leak. In the soup,
Scooter. King of the flood
that is all he.

VIII. Arcanum

Gentleman’s se-
crets. Afraid-centric.
If you’re not batshit ballistic
you’re not. Unseen censure.
Impeachy keen.

IX. Work Ethic

Who ate yo allege? Getcha. 
There from heah. Hyaah.
Over the border. Broader. 
Brudder. There’s a hole in 
my buck. Et’ll do just fine 
you ev’ry time you slam. 
Our bite mocked fry
Want freedom with that?
Fries, I mean. 

X. Farce Nation

Strike while the irony sot.


The lines O dear! In't doom, et tu on't (stanza VII) and Our bite mocked fry (stanza IX)
are phonetic renderings of "Oderint dum metuant" (Let them hate, as long as they fear),
attributerd to Caligula, and "Arbeit Macht Frei" (Work Makes Freedom), the sign placed
over the gates of German WWII concentration camps.

©2006 F.J. Bergmann

"Doomgobble" appeared in Press 1 Vol. 1 Issue 2

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