Of Some Famous People and a Random Fatal Occurrence

Stephen Hawking bent sideways smiling blinking
metallic voice orating deep shit
to which some repressed star war freaks
on mondays masturbate.

Nietzche's madman walking through the market
yelling god is dead god is dead god is dead
without ever meeting the necrophyllic Marilyn Manson
yelling god is dead god is dead.

These words you see imply that god was once alive
and breathing, but forget
that a god never dies but merely exists
outside of conscience where he can't be blamed on
like the devil can.

And the devil, poor scapegoat
for human lack of self discipline
and sense of personal responsibility
takes his tail, ties a knot,
and whips Dante mercilessly.

And John, who only knew candles, but spoke
of the light, if he had known
there'd someday be no stars left to be seen,
would have kept his mouth shut,
bitten his tongue until all four muscles
that composed it were dissolving in his gut.

But yes, I wish Plath would have met Marquis de Sade,
and lost a nipple to his potato peeler,
punctured a lung to his switchblade, and,
lying in a pool of her own blood, some conveniently
stored in Gerber bottles which once held pear puree,
might have found a reason to keep living.

But she had to kill herself,
she was blonde,
she was thin,
she was sick in the head,
or too sane for her society.
She stroke the paradox of death
with her two favorite fingers,
that which spoke of her weakness in
giving up life,
and her strength in taking it.
Maybe the bitch got high off dying.

But the pans piled up in
someone else's kitchen sink
and the roaches rummaged through the ruins
and the mice mingled and convened
in corners chewing at this
grain, at that gum, at this furry toe
which belonged to some feline creature.

The cat caught rabies bit the bastard owner
which went crazy and was tied to a oak tree.
Fortunately, previously, he'd been bit by a tick
and died of rabies before he took seat
among the candidates to Lyme disease, which
if I'm right would impair his ability to think clearly
and thus adapt to this world of savage beasts.

What more, at the foot of the bark there resided
a pack of black widows which sensing invasion
took care of the warm body and concluded it
in a current of neural pain and
the stilling of the fleshy curtains.