Collisions: Horse Crap and Dog Shit
When horse crap collides with dog shit the sound
sounds like bull shit and smells like ambergris,
you could sell the concoction by the pound
or you could even mix it with cat piss.
Think of all the wonderful guano
possibilities out there: forty parts
horse crap sixty parts dog shit and although
this sounds nasty it is off the damn charts
in terms of what it can do for potted
plants, in ancient times it was not out of
place for a farmer to be allotted
several units of human crap above
the amount considered safe in modern
times, craps that were orange, green and auburn.
Collisions: Toothpaste and Toothbrush
When toothpaste and toothbrush collide with one
another you get the sound of a plop
and a bubble and you are almost done
with this sequence of sonnets that's a flop
and a half, get in the shower and brush
your teeth while you wash all your body parts
your breath smells like you have a nasty thrush
with digested onion and garlic farts.
Please stop breathing, you're farting with your mouth,
you are destroying the ozone layer,
get out of here, leave this place and head south,
your horrible butt breath is the slayer
of my nasal cavities, and I need
those nasal cavities that you make bleed.
Collisions: Pen and Paper
Writing is the collision of pen and
paper, the sound is a soft little whoosh,
you could write about your favorite band,
or the adventures of Lyndon LaRouche.
I think of a girl with only one eye
who was an activist for the LaRouche
campaign, only half of her face could cry,
and she had the scent of needing to douche.
I think about that smelly young woman
and wonder what she is doing right now
with her smelly self, being a human
who stinks isn't that easy anyhow.
Someone always tells you: "you need to wash,
get into the bathtub and make a splosh."
Collisions: Sun and Ray
When the Sun collides with a laser ray
a light one thousand times brighter than most
stars will radiate from the point they may
be colliding at, see it from the coast,
it's almost something like the northern lights,
think of the great battles between the Sun
and a bright laser ray as each one fights
for luminary dominance, a ton
of dynamite exploding all at once
couldn't even compare to the brightness
of this collision, not one million blunts
all alight at once could top the lightness
of the sun and the laser ray clashing,
watch them during the night bright and flashing.
Collisions: Lipstick and Mascara
Mascara is a song by the Deftones,
Lipstick is a song by Runaway June,
you can feel the music inside your bones
when you hear the music of either tune.
when the two collide with one another
you get the sound of a heavy metal
band playing songs with a country mother
whose voice has the sound of a rose petal
dropping toward the ground on a fall day.
The sound of heavy metal and country
is an exquisite sound if I do say
so myself, along with other sundry
things I would like to say, just try it once
and do it without looking like a dunce.
Collisions: Pencil and Eraser
Pencils and erasers are for math class,
pens are for just about any other
subject. The sound of a Catholic Church Mass
is the racket they make when they smother
one another, that is, the pencil and
eraser. the chant, the benediction,
the hail Mary’s and our fathers the land
tame, serene, and calm with an addiction
to the sermons of the clashing pencils
and erasers the clamor and the calm
you can sketch it on paper with stencils
with a pencil wrapped tightly in your palm.
Find yourself a pencil and eraser
while singing that Pixies song "Debaser."
Collisions: Pea and Peapod
You can listen to the sound of a pea
colliding with a pea pod and then think
to yourself of how you would rather be
listening to the Weeknd as you sink
into a plush couch, listen, listen, just
listen. the sound of the pea and it's pod.
I believe that smoking pod is a must
before you die and are covered with sod.
Listen to the sound that the pea makes, hear
what sound the pod makes, smoke a pound of them
and tell your secrets to a woman dear
to you as your own mother. The pod on its stem
gathering sunlight for the peas within,
if they were junipers you could make gin.
Collisions: Eyes and Glasses
The sound of eyes colliding with glasses
is this: Fuck! When you hear that sound, the fuck
sound, you know, you know for sure that asses
are about to get whopped, so you should duck
and cover. Fuck! There it goes again and
again. The eyes and glasses will not stop
hitting each other, it feels just like sand
in the eye as if they're trying to swap
places, the eyes want to be where the eye
glasses are and vice versa, try harder,
they cannot switch places though they are nigh
one another. They try with much ardor
to switch places, but they can't, they simply
collide to the sound of fuck said limply.
Collisions: Soap and Bathtub
Think of soap, and then think of a bathtub,
and think of them colliding in the air,
and then think of the sound of vapor rub
by Vicks, then think of how you'll stop and stare
at the collision of a bar of soap
and a bathtub, at the side of a road,
which will cause a traffic jam, think of rope
and then think of a suicidal toad
hanging at the end of the rope. It's dead.
and the only thing it hears is bubbles
from soap and the bathtub, only Fred
Flintstone is left who has stone age troubles
to deal with. The sound is so exquisite
which hearing before death is requisite.
Collisions: Peanut Butter and Jelly
The collision of peanut butter and
jelly creates what is perhaps the most
terrific noise in the entire land
and it's a very small few who can boast
of making something half as eloquent
as the sound of the collision of bread
and peanut butter and jelly which went
through the universe until they were dead
from exhaustion. The sound is this: a small
buzz mixed with a hiss and a churn. You'd get
and ear orgasm just by hearing all
the wonderful noises, and you will fret
that you cannot hear more of the noises,
you'll know at least what half of pure joy is.
Collisions: Cloud and Sky
When there's a collision between a cloud
and the sky a boom reverberates
at a sonic speed, the sound is so loud
that it cracks the shells of invertebrates
and the eyes of everything with eyes bleed
like the holy virgin Guadalupe
or a heroin addict who's in need,
and blown off is Donald J. Trump's toupee.
The light of a thousand stars will glisten
across the cloud thatched sky, and a million
dollars, all alive and well, will listen
patiently for instructions to fill in
the bank accounts of Citibank execs
who watch as the clouds and the sky have sex.
Collisions: Shoes and Socks
When shoes and socks collide the sound of death
is what you hear. And what does death sound like
you ask? Well, it sounds like the heaving breath
of a smoker riding fast on his bike
down the street at a million miles per hour.
You would think of shoes and socks colliding
as nothing major, but the sweet and sour
odor of the socks with the fermenting
sweat in the shoes makes an odor of life,
of the odor of living things. So there
you have it, the sound of death with its wife
the odor of life, all of it laid bare.
Take off your shoes and socks and make them crash,
take in the sound and odor as they bash.
Collisions: Shoes and Shoe Laces
When a pair of shoes collides with a pair
of shoe laces the sound is something like
a cow mooing her moos into the air
which fall on the ears of a tiny tike.
The shoe laces surround the pair of shoes
and rattle and hiss like a rattle snake
while the shoes make the sound of cattle moos
until even the sleeping dead awake.
The dead, up from their graves and the tiny
child get together and shut off the sounds
of the shoe laces and shoes with grimy
hands from the graves where dirty mud abounds.
the child gnaws on one of the living dead,
the dead, afraid of him, put him to bed.
Wednesday Morning
Today we had a bowl of oatmeal for
breakfast, it had raisins and bananas
I find that oatmeal is a little bore
compared to bacon. I tucked bandanas
into my shirt to block the splashes from
the watery sludge that is a bowl of
oats. I wish that oatmeal would always come
with a shot of nectar from the gods above.
I think about how people all around
the Earth have breakfast, eating delicious
meals of quail eggs and venison and sound
like couples moaning as they eat, vicious
and passionate they down humongous meals
I only wish I could know how it feels.
I Could Really Use A Drink
I could really use a shot of Johnnie
Walker right now, boredom, boredom makes me
want to drink, a shot's for someone scrawny,
I'd prefer a double, but then I'd be
paying twice as much, and I wouldn’t want
that. How about one entire bottle?
Not all at once, just let the bottle taunt
you, throw shot by shot until you waddle
like a duck running toward the water
of a small pond in a small park, feet first
you'll jump, followed by your son and daughter
who are also looking to quench their thirst
on the smooth taste of pond water. Drink up,
fill your bottle, highball, collins, and cup.
Tuesday Morning
As usual we had cereal for
breakfast, milk and crunchy little pieces
of bread, enough, but I would have liked more
than the amount she gave us. She feeds us
just enough to get by. She had us leave
the house at around eight-thirty. We left
and went to Wendy's. I cannot believe
how early she made us leave. It is effed
up. I really need to have my beauty
sleep, I just have to stay beautiful for
the people who love me, an old cutie
that people admire much and adore.
I don't know what the hell she does all day,
she'd leave the house too if I had my way.
"Sixteen Poems" by Kenneth Larot Yamat
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