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Printer friendly version Posted 21/09/2010 Email this article to a friend

You Have Been Warned

Reflections in a Petri Dish – September 20, 2010

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

You are warned that this is the Petri Dish and you should proceed no further if bad language and bad attitude upsets your ability to bend over for the ruling forces who are doing one heck of a job screwing up your world and leaving you to remain in that position with intense longing; all of that would be your own unless they have now come up with Genetically Modified Desire to be had, while being allowed to be the low man on the scrotum pole. I think that makes you a fluffer; not good enough to do the evil but definitely able to excite the evil to carry out its agenda.

This is a poem I wrote in the 70’s and my good friend Regis Mull; the greatest country western songwriter I have ever heard and also one of the most obnoxious attention whores I ever met, called me up the night after I delivered it at about 3 in the morning and said; no doubt behind half a quart of Jack Daniels, “Hey Les, the Pope is dead.”

“I know that Regis, I’m sleeping.”

“No, you don’t understand, the new Pope is dead”.

And so on and so forth…

So…. Please stop reading if bad words offend you. The truth has been known to use what anal retentives and those unable to attract suitable partners, because of squeamish tendencies, consider to be profane. The truth has the luxury of not giving a shit.

Here we go. You have been warned;

“Perform something long needed on the guy with the funny hat”

FUCK THE POPE

Fuck the old pope
And fuck the new pope
And fuck all popes in general
May they be knocked down from behind
And gang-fucked by terrorists daily

“Ah, come in Senator.”
“Good afternoon, General”
PAX VOMITUS RENDUNDAS
“May I offer you a drink?”
“Well, perhaps some sherry your grace-
And one or two of those small boys,
I find they concentrate the mind wonderfully

The conclave was held in the Popedome
Each Cardinal was given a fresh novice
Upon which to carve his ballot
Afterwards, the smoke from their burning
Ignited the hosts of rabble at the gate

“Monsignor, pray close the window
Crowds make the master excitable.”
Even now, his hooves were tapping nervously upon the dais
His shaggy horned head was pitching too and fro

Once the window was closed
They arose as one
And lined up at his rear
Where the ceremoniously kissed his little red asshole
Such is the manner of the great
Such are the rituals of the great
And those who would become so
From St.Peters to the Bohemian Grove
From Westphalia to the Bilderberger suite
So it is…
So it has always been
Popes Alexander and the Borgias were so informed
Honorius and Innocent
They knew the value of a dollar when there we only lire to be had
DEUS EX SUCULA EX PORTO POTTY

A recent Pope was so precipitate as to integrate the elect
What courage to have faced down tradition so early in the game
Certainly they awaked us to injustice
See how they seize the evil and make it register
In the black
Consistently
From the very start

How grateful we are for the Pope
For the Cardinals in their little suits
(What do you think a rig like that goes for?)
And the good little Bishops
Who move only on the diagonal
And the rest
Only some of whom dine on brandy and cigars
And ride in Lincolns through dirty Mexican streets
Only due to the lack of tits on men
Did the Vatican miss being built in Tijuana

There is a saying in Zen;
“If you see the Buddha in the road,
Cut him down.”
Thus I take it to mean that external Buddha’s are a myth
So, should we not say;
“If one sees the Pope in the road to do the same,
for he must be an illusion”?
However, it is unlikely that we shall see him in the commonplace
Such honors are reserved for the singular few
Who do not smell
Who never sweat
Whose hair is never out of place

I have sat in Notre Dame
Our lady of empty space
And when stillness prevailed
Over the vendors and pigeons
Shuffling their relics from the cosmic privy
I have heard
The relentless screaming of heretical babies
Remorseless and unrepentant in their ways
I have heard the victims of Pizarro and Cortez
And the inquisition
Rivers of gold
Rivers of gold
God’s men must have gold and ceremony
For pompous displays of mumbo jumbo
Divorced from the pagan witch doctors
Only by the rapacity of their vision
Only by the stupendous grasp of their avaricious sexless minds
Which have transformed all of their desires
Into one insatiable soul sucking greed

This house of usurers
Providing documents of passage for the Fourth Reich
Fleeing the flames of Berlin
And yet serving the Synagogue of Satan who started the affair.

But there are other fires
No Pope can extinguish
Vatican passports and priesthoods in Hell
For the burners of Jews
Making up lies for the father of lies
Bad Karma for the Christ killers
To come upon, not only Hitler
But the Pope as well
(that font of overflowing compassion)
One only wishes the Pope would have been able to do something about
The money changers while he was trying to sodomize Saladin

What has changed since Luther nailed his shit to the door?

The distance of years always gives
A clarifying perspective
Up close
Right now
We are too often blind
How wise the Pope is
To counsel us on sex
A blind brain surgeon
A mute arpeggio
A deaf window on the land of the living
Vampires do not blush
Except while feeding

His edicts on birth control
Make him the biggest mass murderer of all time
Author of global starvation
Milking the endless bloody nickels of third world Hell

Fuck the Pope
Oh come let us fuck him
For he has fucked us
In extreme measure
In this lifetime or some other
Throughout the ages the church and state
Have sat with expanded gut
Over the common plate
Like pigs at the trough
They have done their special duty to God and man
Taking from the one
And holding in escrow for the other
God however is not their father
God has no need of such things
Could never author such things
Men are the authors
And when men are corrupt and mean and ferret like
When unmoving ignorance leads
They create the great anthropomorphic fool/
From glutinous power mad litanies
They call up out of the abyss
Their likeness
And they call it God
But it is not God
God has left them behind
From the moment they departed
God remained behind
And they stand
Holding up old bones
Dressed in their coffin bound glitter suits
And they hold up these dead things
And they say
They have the power of God
I spit on them

Their church is a tomb
It is a tomb of snakes
And spiders and wraiths
Of dead children and things that go bump in the sacristy
Of all manner of unnatural goings on
Hoarder of pornography
Spellman on Cohn’s boat –paraphrasing Churchill with buggery and the lash
Killings of saints
Torment of Michelangelo
Scourge of Galileo
Head chef to Giordano Bruno

This church
Filled with murmurs and groans and wailing
Curious scuttlings,
The sounds of a lizard climbing through the eyeholes of a skull
A gigantic lamia
A bloodsucking siphon machine
It eats hopes
It eats dreams
And it eats shit
It plunders and primps in the universal mirror

Back Satan!
I adjure thee
Back into the pit!
Take the gold
Gnaw on it in your darkness
AD NAUSEUM

11

Fuck the Pope uh huh uh huh
Fuck the Pope uh huh uh huh
Get down get down
Disco with the Pope
Pope’s got a brand new bag
Uh huh uh huh
And fuck the banks
And fuck the Swiss Exchange
And fuck the Club of Rome
And the men in the shadows
And the Trilateral Commission
And The Round Table
And the oil lords
And fuck Wal-Mart
And Montgomery Wards
Uh huh uh huh
Get down get down
And fuck the Rockefellers
And the anthrax letters
And fuck the moon shot
They filmed it in Colorado
Uh huh uh huh
Get down get down
And fuck atomic fallout
And fuck the discothčques
And fuck the governments
And fuck McDonalds
And Burger King
And fuck having it your way
And fuck all manner of not looking where you are going
And driving over the top of others
Fuck your jewelry and your deodorants
And your head full of cement
And fuck buying and selling and dealing
In crap with no value
To people with no taste
And fuck skateboards
And the entire Pepsi generation
And young girls with crotch cutting pants
(But I think that’s the point)
And tuna fish for brains
With the emotional depth of a gopher
Uh huh uh huh
Get Down get down
And fuck political correctness
And fuck Drudge and Geraldo
And all the sickies that muckrake
Into the lives of Gleam smiling androids
And fuck Disneyland
And fuck Rush Limbaugh
And Andy Warhol spitting some hopefuls cum into the limousine ashtray
And Fuck My Lee Cyrus
Somebody please!
And fuck the record companies
And fuck the morons on TV
And fuck the AMA and the pharmaceutical combines
And fuck the insurance companies
And fuck the Republicans
And all social Darvons and Valiums
And sensitivity insulators
And bullshit incubators
(TO HAVE AND TO HOLD)
And God Bless all kinds of beautiful dreams and people
That this is not the time nor the poem for
(IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH)
And may they flourish forever
And God Bless every righteous endeavor
(FOR RICHER AND FOR POORER)
But fuck war
And fuck all merchants of fear
And fuck blind comfort oriented progress
And fuck all things that keep us in harness
(TILL DEATH DO US PART)
And fuck all things that leave us heartsick and broke
And last
But not least
Fuck the Pope
And Monsanto
And the Rothschilds
And all the corporations
And and and and…

End Transmission.......

Source: http://zippittydodah.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-have-been-warned.html

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Last updated 22/09/2010

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