Ozymandias – Percy Bysshe Shelley
Manuscript found in Lord Byron’s bookcase
To Percy, light upon his waterbed.
I’m the Scorpion King.
Beware,
not the Camel King,
nor, albeit my rattling ways,
a snakish one.
My reign is a desolate wasteland
which I, myself, have created.
Where dumb-dumb Ozymandiases rust.
Where mythologies go to die
like an, oh so secretive, fart.
Far away enough of people so
they can pass quietly and unheard.
My reign is also of venom:
purulent, vicious.
Highly alcoholic melancholy,
not of lethargic rest but instead
breeder of anxious sleep,
of bad poetry during late hours
best served for onanistic endeavors.
¡Behold the Scorpion King!
¡Behold my drunkenness, ye mighty,
and compare:
the width of your temples
to the size of my ding-dong!
Only one of them remains.
Funny looking scorpion tail
amidst ass
and belly-button,
and hair.
Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night – Dylan Thomas
Rave
To Dylan, the bluffer.
Go drunk into that dark night,
rave,
rave with your self’s shadow,
dance.
Dance to electric, acid
drums. Go drunk
into that dark night alight
by fluorescent wristbands.
Rave against living, against dawn.
Lay bare, under a dark sky,
what we all
are.
Go to the bathroom stalls,
past the raving crowd,
break in line and start
a fist fight.
Get drunk
and scarred, animal.
Smile, neon bloodied,
at oblivion.
Rave against all
lights unflickering,
against all
unbroken bones,
against those who dance
and those who don’t:
be an asshole.
And dance, dance
electric seraph,
dance, dance
to acid drums.
Concerning Tobacco – Mark Twain
33
To young Mark. Always with one hand ocuppied.
Children of thirty two
try to tell me what is a good cigar and what isn’t.
Me, who never learned to smoke, but always smoked;
me, who came into the world asking for a light.
Me, who when asked by a waitress
about the kind of beer I would prefer,
sweet, sour, toasted or fruity, always respond:
cold.
Me, who began going out
when I was seven.
Me, that have lived four hundred and fifty six weekends
without throwing up once.
Me, who stole my parent’s condoms
right after my last brother was conceived.
Me, who came from the uterus dancing
and when the nurses left the room, lighted a ciggy.
