This literal latte amounts to no more than
putrid grounds of grotesque mental expresso
formulated to intimidate lesser tweety-birds
and stifle their flights of fancy into
the higher realms of self-important flatulence
cut to the chase and call it a brain fart
discriminating snobs on parade
This gothic death dirge amounts to no more than
a bad grammar brain torture of septic prose
formulated to lick the brain of destitute deviants
and feed their loathsome bloodstain-ink blots
words wallowing in mutilated gore-muck
cut to the chase and call it a morbid-word montage
loser goons on parade
This overwrought flippant fluff amounts to no more than
mutant musings of sex-starved fat girls with big hair
formulated to tweak the hormones of the pubescent
and lead horny house wives of low moral character astray
leading to the purchase of battery operated devices
cut to the chase and call it sugar-coated soft porn
the morally corrupt on parade
This sociopathic techno-speak amounts to no more than
Lame futuristic shoot’em-up character posturing
formulated to pump up the egos of socially challenged
four-eyed pocket-protector wearing know-it-alls
comic book heroes rambling through a cacophony of techno-blather
cut to the chase and call it IQ masturbation fantasy
dateless engineers on parade
This mind-shrinking fairytale amounts to no more than
a barely readable anti-plot littered with regurgitated simpletons
formulated to function as the daily primer of the delusional
spiritually desolate seekers sucked into the ravings of a self styled guru
additional wallet-emptying audio tapes available for the truly gullible
cut to the chase and call it sad but profitable idiocy
the cluelessly-devoted on parade
This pitifully paltry poetry amounts to no more than
the wasted time of a wannabe published poet
formulated to take up empty mind-space
while pissing-off as many genre mongers as possible
rejected word-warping psycho-babble brain fodder
cut to the chase and call it a bad attitude
the belligerent on parade
copyright 2000, M. W. Anderson