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    once wuz, always iz - pOeTrY bOoK 2
    once wuz, always iz - pOeTrY bOoK 2
    once wuz, always iz - pOeTrY bOoK 2
    Ebook101 pages1 hour

    once wuz, always iz - pOeTrY bOoK 2

    By Steve Glickman

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    Praise for once wuz, always iz - pOeTrY bOoK 2:

    "An 80 page chapbook of utter despair, discouragement, hopelessness, and dense almost incomprehensible thoughts ('The thought of foam makes me drool.').

    Bring it out at your next literary party and have everyone read a page out loud ('Strapped across my back, it's just a salty puddle to admire. Release the dogs to gather village meat'.). I have never read anything like this, and neither have you. A very (very) unique vision."

    - Ralph Alfonso
    "Ralph Reviews"
    BongoBeat.com
    December 1997

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSteve Glickman
    Release dateAug 2, 2011
    ISBN9781465896308
    once wuz, always iz - pOeTrY bOoK 2
    Author

    Steve Glickman

    Founder and President Vote Sizing Institute http://iVoteSize.com (formerly http://VoteSizing.org) http://TheWorldsGreatestLivingPoet.com http://KickAssScripts.com

    Read more from Steve Glickman

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      Book preview

      once wuz, always iz - pOeTrY bOoK 2 - Steve Glickman

      Legalities

      Published by:

      tmp_05462ee7d8989d495e502945df81391c_XvZNlq_html_62bc3561.png

      Pali Productions Inc.

      http://Pali.Ca

      Copyright © 2010 by:

      Steve Glickman

      SteveG@Pali.Ca

      Obligations:

      All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. Inquiries concerning reproduction rights should be directed to SteveG@Pali.Ca.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

      Originally published as paperback ISBN# 0-9688658-3-6, 1998.

      License notes:

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

      For Patricia Chung

      ... my first fan.

      Table of Contents

      Legalities

      Dedication

      wuz

      FAT

      COOL

      IF YOU WANT TO FEEL IT, FOOL IT; GO WITH IT PHYSICALLY

      FOR EVERY BIRD CAUGHT IN A NET, ANOTHER DIES IN ME

      THE DEVIL IN US IS IN HIDING

      AND DREAM OF SLEEP

      HERE TO GO

      ALL ROADS LEAD ME HOME

      MAKE ME BLEED THE BLOOD OF ANCIENT WARRIORS AND DRINK THE SAVIOUR OF LIVING LUST.

      iz

      THE LIGHT AT THE BEGINNING OF THE TUNNEL

      BUSTED IN TRANSIT

      ANTIMATERIALISTIC

      DIS’ ON IT’S …

      SEXCESS

      THE TITANIC; BLOWING CHIMENY RINGS

      SCENTSE

      The most incredible thing about spotting bigfoot was seeing his large intelligent eyes; just like light bulbs.

      IT 8 MY 6

      ESCAPED GOATS

      CHUNKY

      BEARING BRONZE IN THE OLYMPICS OF TRAGEDY

      WHAT’S AN ALIEN WITHOUT A SENCE OF HUMOUR?

      BUILT LIKE A SNAKE

      BLEYEND

      SLEASY

      TERROR LIKE MONDAY MORNING

      MY ANGEL IS TOTALLY NAKED

      ODE TO SOCKS

      WHAT HE KNEADS

      AHAB, LOOKING FOR HIS REMOTE CONTROL

      SARDONYCISM

      PSYMPLE RULES

      BE YOU, T.

      BAD POETRY

      TANGABLY DRAB

      STUPID BLOODY HUNGRY FISHIES

      RESPONSES TO LEONARD COHEN

      FULL STOP AHEAD

      KNOT YET

      HEARDLY

      WITH HOLDING

      CONFIDENTERTAINMENT

      THAT’S IT !!!

      BILLY McFLINTLOCK

      I FUCKED MARY, by Joe Christ

      THAIR

      W?OW!

      ENVYDENSE

      UNDERESSING

      Further reading

      Chapter 1

      tmp_05462ee7d8989d495e502945df81391c_XvZNlq_html_m2588aae4.png

      wuz

      FAT

      Sickly

      big black void;

      smug red pickles,

      tie-dyes bull’s eyes.

      Comical bowties,

      misleading lies,

      close cropped patch of

      gray luster gone hair.

      Cosmetic follicles,

      pimples on their asses,

      crawling caskets

      spitting preposterous syntax.

      Scum coated glasses,

      webbed eyes cry

      fornication of futility.

      Loose chins lick coat collars.

      Silly snickers, sly insinuations;

      begone into hasty chase.

      Flee without flight

      slowly pivots shoulder eyes

      and reveals itself.

      COOL

      Breath in ice,

      harness the frost with horse collars.

      I keep remembering

      I forget what I know.

      Bite reality, this cigarette smoke

      flows like gin,

      tastes my soul.

      I fall into a bottomless hole

      as eternity folds.

      The words get louder

      the farther I go.

      IF YOU WANT TO FEEL IT, FOOL IT; GO WITH IT PHYSICALLY

      Instructions on how to have a good trip; just take the opportunity to thank:

      1. The outside for the opportunity.

      2. The inside for being able.

      FOR EVERY BIRD CAUGHT IN A NET, ANOTHER DIES IN ME

      Sometimes I can’t remember, sometimes I can’t forget. Acting, behind sad eyes only more sadness. Imitating others, trying to please. Insecure, shy and beaten in the moonlight. Battered eyes broken by people needing love. Sold to touch sacred skin. Beaten black and blue by cocksure parasites. Shake loose all concrete; close eyes and see gods riding ponies. Smile shyly at strangers who know how to cope.

      Roll over and fold arm over eyes. Sad eyes panicking in the face of love. Eyes that have seen too much pride. Eyes cry softly for a different past. Eyes open, looking for people to please; see hateful faces with smiles and cruel words. Evil eyes that know nothing but blame and sacrifice. Junky slaves that know only the joy of cooking. Eyes watching me like I’m a blanket to smooth out and admire lovingly. Accusing, lonely people watching me dance from empty windows.

      Hearts exposed under the moonlight and banished to the city. Ancient eyes weeping. Given up on dreams, forgot how to live. Lost all love to broken souls. Sadness, broken and blue, forgotten under watchful eyes of indifferent gods.

      Once, when I was young I reached out to touch, and felt her reaching back.

      Now I cry

      she punched me in the brain;

      flattened my face,

      my eyes.

      THE DEVIL IN US IS IN HIDING

      Yeah sure,

      he blew

      smoothly,

      cooly,

      craving a cigarette.

      Poetry is wind;

      wild glowing faces,

      eyes marching in pairs into

      your

      memory. Chalky bones, peeled wax, and wool so lifelike

      you’ll swear it’s real.

      Steaming electric shocks across wet charred horizons

      BREAK

      into bones hanging from webs in cellars of wooden rafters.

      Ride ceramic beads of dew where footprints are left only in the armor of

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