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Deadpan Poetry

a masturbatory affair.

Creative Commons License

How’s Your Damn Garden?


In a garden of epicenter
keep of the dirt

A compendium of soreness
such a pretty headline

Hanging by an aphorism
a wrath of poly animals

Safety first and head socks
the law of supply and damn it

the gall of percentages



The mountain is God.
A tongueless blue quiet
out the back door.

The tree is a fleshy woman.
Green with summer.
Watches me through
the window.

The train is a dry fish,
whistle throated.
Cursed to roll

The blackberries are pleased
with their own roundness.

I am a swimmer.
I always breathe
on the third stroke.

There is always water.

The sun is an old woman
clad in pink
every morning.

The moon is a grinning man
who waves goodbye but
never hello.

The train is a wolf
who scatters the bones
with his howling.

He takes what is his.

He leaves a mess of fields
and doors.

Red-painted ghosts who whisper.

Murmurs left alive
in my blood.

Nine Shocking Things Lady Gaga Has In Common With The Ghost Of Winston Churchill

Listen closely but shoot for rapt
try very hard not to vomit a little:
Winston Churchill dies every minute 
you aren’t parading a steak ensemble.
It’s the glorious, meaningless thing
we call science. Science calls it art.

Congratulations, you are a primate
and you have made a thing: a glorious 
meaningless thing in the grand scheme 
of perfectly explicable things.

What a fantastic sentence science has there.
In no particular order
here is a list of axioms we can agree on:

  • We have seen the value of Joshness.
  • More commodes should be caddy-cornered.
  • Dodgeball is not relevant to education.
  • There is always a banjo in the distance.
  • Odysseus was in touch with his feelings.
  • Agamemnon wore a sparkly hat.
  • Everyone is properly trained in fire safety.
  • Giant hands can make you filthy rich.
  • It’s safe to assume we’re being watched.

I have no academic credentials to provide.
I’m just a disembodied beard 
floating around on the internet.
But it’s crazy out there, man. 
God vs science vs Sega Genesis vs Birdo.
Total bedlam. 

Dan would tell us to consult the giant brain.
Toss beachballs underhand staring at the sun.

Congratulations, you have graduated 
from mentally ill to marginally well.
Now please excuse this lovely mess
It’s just me getting older on the outside.


Five Sempiternal Uutku


Virulent Tuber

Looking fabulous
in the absence
of lewd symmetry. 

Conjoined deities mar
the accidental sawmill
in Elysium. 

the blessedness
of oblivion.

Inspirational mantra:
in another universe
I am a sickly chair. 

Bone kindling
dispossessed of hour 
designated skin.  

When I begged you

to lend me your bonesaw

what I meant to say was

it’s nearly time I was set

loose in my natural habitat

I am all grown

and thoroughly sorry

you may keep the foot

for luck or portent 

either way I shall suffer  

irreparable social malign

mostly because of your

human limb collection. 

I’ve been thinking again about how

an intergalactic invasion force 

could be the most potentially interesting 

development in my life. 

It would finally afford me an excuse

to demonstrate my advanced training 

in plasma weaponry for good 

instead of evil, it would incentivize 

the establishment of a date 

on which we all simultaneously

default on our credit cards.

and grandfather 
appears before me
again, only this time 
he wields a scythe.

I say something like
hello grandfather, 
what’s that
in thy possession? 

he pokes at me
for several moments
and then ascends
slowly in a bubble. 

pull a chair up


oh you crazy mountain people
harvesting weeds and want ads
ganging bongs and telephone aps
against your laughing noggins
full bells rapped with mallets
and i would place my guess
the dog was hiding safely
watching from the closet
with a smile and some tongue pinched
between her cheeky teeth and gums

Come Home and Frisk Your Neighbor

Stevedore acres is located on 30 yards of machete landscaping, surrounded by giant weeping grandads and plad gargoyles. Our amenities include tranquil couples sex and breathtaking mustache vineyards. Come join the misadventures of the many converts to the Johnson clan. Come home and frisk your neighbor at Stevedore acres.

washer/dryer consciousnesses
cozy woodshed
patio/deck with stork
cauldron cemetery
wrap around barmaid
washer/dryer included in select universes 

24 hour maladies
swiss popularity
tentacle courtyard
burning excrement
trash pick up
planned respect activities
plaything arm
lawsuit careers
business center
prescription hallmark
skewer armchairs

Contact the cyclopes.

Thank you!!

The Johnson Clan

Someone spies a pair of magical sideburns reading from the acolyte’s codex errr brochure.