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Friday, December 16, 2011


by The Poet Spiel

some nobody rises to say:
we gotta do something before this thing gets worse!
and from the outback some other nobody shouts:
worse! it’s already got worser.
and the we the people rise up in one voice saying:
and it’s gonna get more worse   
as the crowd gets loud:
we gotta do something NOW NOW NOW

the chair pounds the table to say:
and the committee to fix things says:
yada yada. yada yada yada. yadayadayadayada.

and the chair concludes:
yada. yada yada.
but the we the people shout:

so the chair and the committee to fix things
closes its eyes to fart and mutter among itself:
yadayada. yadayadayadayadayadayadayadayadayada

and the chair pounds the table
to adjourn
then the chair folds its legs and declares:
yadayada wegotta yadayada kaboom yadayada BOOOM

then the we the people recover certain historic splinters
from the boom debris
and drive them as a line of stakes
into the shattered floor

and along that line
in blood they write:

The Poet Spiel is a tight-wired maverick painting naked word portraits of humankind, thin-layering its hirsute beastiness and occasionally revealing its humanity in scores of independent press publications. His most recent book, barely breathing, a ten-year Spiel anthology, published by March Street Press, is available at