South of Right? by Mike Zone

You can’t knock it out of the park
all the time
that’s the false promise of joy
tangents of discontent
collecting all along the way
wild nights
every time- a blond
blue eyed cutie passed by
my friends and I
would grab our crotches
chant in unison
“Apple-pie pussy!”
exactly how much apple pie have we eaten?
why is the human race, not yet extinct
for our quasi-sorrowful behavior?
you ever see The Pieta`?
goddamn, I hope the afterlife
is nowhere near like that!
my holy virgin mother (who was no virgin nor holy)
distraught- cradling my near naked body
stabbed in the side by a spear
religion inspires art
art is a mirror held up to life
what a depressing state of affairs
no wonder, everyone walks around, so uptight
when they’ve outgrown “apple pie pussy” battle cries
we’ve traded them in for new kinds of prisons
live action moments frozen in time
Cunt Bombs- that’s what the men are
whiney, status obsessed, falsely brazen
the harpies flock to them
clawing, tearing, scraping- shrieking in desire
sacred proclamations and undying wavering tributes
it’s a tidal wave of mythos
slaying the grass of our prairy erthed minds
“Zone, you’re crazy.”
“Zone, you need a new overcoat.”
“Zone, it’s better to join them, than beat them.”
“Zone, you’re alone”
in the beginning were either us ever alone
by choice?
and this is what the clarity of solitude is known to bring
the tyranny of impoverished people
depleted lands and mechanized minds
steeped in mentors’ mysterium
and something might be wrong or entirely wrong
but everyone wants everything right
for fear of being alone
but just remember- the lone-wolf and cub
bloodied dharma-bums and bandits
growing and bonding
upon the many roads of retribution and wisdom
where can anyone truly go
without breaking- fetters
of the past and possibly bleak manifolding futures
ahead of us?
Ah, the multiverse existence, what a trip.
and here I was reminiscing about
steamy, nose turned up in the air
apple pie pussy
another nail in the coffin


Michael Zone is the author of Fellow Passengers: Pubic Transit Poetry, Meditations & Musings and Better than the Movies: 4 Screenplays. His work has been featured in Because Eileen, Dead Snakes, Horror Trash Sleaze, In Between Hangovers, Sick Lit Magazine, Three Line Poetry, Triadae Magazine and The Voices Project. He scrapes by in Grand Rapids, MI

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