Dienstag, 7. März 2017



by Constantin von Hoffmeister

for Europe
against decadence
flashes of insight
walk across the plank
like a fat model in heat
egged on by a pirate's beard
itchy in her back
the smell of her vagina
lingering in the nostrils
of the man with the eye patch
deliver her from evil
the men in the dry suits
dressed as pirates
and the machinations of the council
always manufacturing consent
always producing shit as art
selling feces as art
raking in the dough
making the rounds in the art world
getting fucked in the ass
to sell a canvas
sucking cock
to be known
but true appreciation
among one's own
earned through sweat and tears
laboring while women die
and men triumph
all the while projecting
an image of hope among ruins
the men in the dry suits
waiting in their cubicles
to perform what real men would not
breaking the cycle of inertia
through actions of the mind

Henry VIII a many woman man
his church radiating above all others
Catholics muzzled and bound
the English on their own Crusade:
to free damsels in distress
to liberate the Holy Island
from spices that are needed
for masala chai!
did Henry VIII ever try Tandoori chicken?
his descendants battling the invaders
on distant shores embarked
in London they disembark
creating canine duplicity
among the native fellows

where is art?
a people in motion
a new order
is a bond a painting a poem?
are we the source of rhyme?
is us the man that preacheth?
or, like Henry VIII,
ever hoping for progeny
continuing the line
the glory
the castle ruled by us
not them
ruled by west
not east
many women will have to die
for the pen to fill the pages
and the brush to stroke the canvas' thighs

March 13, 2008

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