Bunko the Nurse


Religion polluted,

freezes the abstract –
words indecipherable to eat.
Take my chiasmus hostage, mimic it.

Witticism growls,
the hot Jacuzzi disinfects orgasm.

Absurd whispering chimney,
I’m shaped prosody.
The punctuated xylophone –
I squatted your used pyrrhic.
The screeching ye formed cognate,
the shadowless cavity swarming.

Bavarian malignancy,
charade reeks of unknown globule.
Horus hypnosis,
Pavlov condition,
exploitation choice,
slaughterhouse museum,
turns my once faith into a buzzing flea.

Gore music jazz –
dies a solo staying tribute.
Mastery second aeon,

When every totem crowned
is beheaded,
I, most eager lad –
compel a dream
to filth your noise gleaming corpulence.

Animal skulls Orthey –
100 slain erupt whom,
ritualistic unpredictable you.
Who strings us humans as marionette?
Incorporate then,
Where organs, ocarina,
sexualize the complex P.

Analyze cannot we this,
realism gives me a death blow job.
Drift us
unconventionally –
Lamentation centuries scraped,
revealed by ridiculously itch.

Sunfish piano,
the production grim –
dieth smile sweet.

Her kind malice –
unleash the whorls montage.
Mountains razz,
conceiving you as a two-headed goat.
Ignore perhaps,
ignore materialism,
His radiant character strangely milkward.
The hateful you are, the wiser you become.

Bunko the nurse
got goon dada
& its eerie drunken penny boozed.
Terrestrialism glosses
monosyllabically gushes
generation agenda,
cracks me up
of that mental worship,
cliché mysticism
I lost my token to herein.

Banksy conquering
political zingers,
accordion sax
language spills out mint ode.
Pinnacles insofar have untrodden another –
croon biting the afternoon.

The death coded chime,
Mind philistine,
dirty declension,
brutalization drinks up the horizon incessant.

Nowhere isof glorifies –
the skinny dipping threesomes.
Cerebella sovereignty,
the flesh modem temporarily disappears.
I’m pre-human
I’m stuffed oddly.  

Some squeak reason
from their ears.
Monuments go amok;
such ideals remix the dimensions cotton pox.

Christianity is a barren lie,
Catholicism insanitation.

Osiris let us decay with you.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2016 Charlie Zero the Poet

 

All rights Reserved.

 

No part of Bunko the Nurse – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 

 

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Robo-eels Massage Satan’s Nipple


Fracas splashing

in the dead comma,
what does your stomach play?
Mines? It draws acacia embedded
against I assassinated dot.
I got a cup of scars;
here take a sip.
Sway to the noteless veto.
Two little platypus
moan like rapturous cobra,

Zim-zam abracadabra

Rewind history back to the year 3384.
If you should rape semi-colon
don’t bother selling matadors
who sign adjectives in seconds.

Cowards!!!
You heard me Oscar Wilde
Nietzsche, Carl Marx, myself included.

Take my hand –
futures exist under the suicide act.
Look! No cavities for me to sow –
get me out!!! The hopeless introvert ponders.

My nipples swim around each other
like robo-eels training for kung-Fu
and all the batteries assemble a heart.

Enough already let me be player 2 instead;
okay, now give me a bottle of absinthe, night, night, Satan.

 

 

Copyright © 2016 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Robo-eels Massage Satan’s Nipple – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Dead Film Sleepers


Snuff torture man-made video tape

surgeons bludgeon the sensitive ape.
We are god’s favorite imperfect mistake
The American bible burn on a stake.
I’m ashamed, me human suit of a man
stale ignorance fuck the Ku Klux Klan.
What I see in the news it makes me cry
hope is a whore nobody wants to try.
My honesty flares through zero caffeine
subliminal messages rot, next scene.

 

 

Copyright © 2016 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Dead Film Sleepers – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Steam my Modem the Chattering Man Said


Artificial worn ghostless gravy men

mound the womb.

Modems boiling
in the feckless vex.

E-licktron eyes pistil again –
Indian man winks
at the wandering pollen.

Lungs utter illiterate.

Shadoh engineering breath,
Trollop messiahs
station in podium stage.

Follow darpent teeision.

Churning over vocoder
canoodle the circles
and hear the Martian spur.

Juveniles inhale beds dandruff.

Velcro sky expectancy
for one mighty cat chattering me,
seductive yummy swelters,
I apologies if my blame
easily sparks intenow.

The mysterious out fell
beyond pensive he’s
and rainbow bathome.

There’s she like digits
that steal sericulture
from the avenue mystic wanted piss.

Have I mention yet
how long kisses bend
while staircases
drink what tried burial like god arms?

Goon’s reflecting of this powerfully Jebediah turpitude.

Seagulls break illut
erase the circuit have sex sorry.
Cliché pounds my meds
I urn portion
of a price,
be careful – between you and…hmmm
there’s speculation
over you being a confetti conspiracy.
Nonsense I’ll leave that to poetic-droids.
Its safe efficient
and at no cost to you,
order us now or no money back,
infomercials signing out.

 

 

Copyright © 2016 Charlie Zero the Poet

 

All rights Reserved.

 

No part of Steam my Modem the Chattering Man Said – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.