by Spiel
"History.
We won't know.
We'll all be dead."
that's what you once said
mr. boosh
oh you should be so lucky
but i say
one moment
after midnight
today
is history
and right this moment
dear mr. boosh
history's not
turning out
your way
don't even bother
with a book of lies
the cowardice of
your yes men
is being revealed
and your secrets
slaughtered and
three times fried
for you to gag on
so duck your head
between
your knees
by the time
"we'll all be dead"
if you're lucky
history
might record those words as
the only profound thing
you ever said
Neither the NEA nor an MFA influences Pushcart Prize contender, the poet Spiel, in his diverse works of personal conflict and social consciousness, published frequently online and in independent press journals around the world. His latest books are: she: insinuations of flesh brooding published in 2008 by March Street Press and once upon a farmboy published 2008 by MadmanInk.
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