Sunday, June 28, 2009

Two poems by Adam Chesler

by Adam Chesler

American Commercial

He or she who resists (without further paper work or questioning)
will be decapitated and ripped
into small pieces for use in our farm
Fertilizer for the soil we grow --
corn soldiers to kill and feed
the insatiable quest to build
and fashion proper and desirable
men and women without
balls or clitoris’ to defend
our God-given right to wage
War on Terror!

Another idea: electric metal cord for brains, platinum steel
for eyes,
pale icy plastic for hearts.



Come make me, savor me
i'll watch your neck spread --
vocal chords meeting mist, ascending voice box
i'll be your own crowbar recital

come make me, savor me
torture me on the ceiling
head dwindling upside down, mouth gaping
a still crucifix mounts the wall
below you and I, we are lying on the heavens
blank walls lined with shadows
dripping holy sweat

our weeping hearts are alined
with the sentiment of divine broomsticks
ones for destroying
spider webs in the sharp corners

houses of saliva and other
miscellaneous forms of
bodily secretions.

Author bio:

Adam Chesler is a writer of poetry, fiction, and obscene ramblings. Although his work has yet to find a space in either an online or print journal, his first collection of poetry, Skeleton Street, was published independently and is available by request. He lives in Atlanta, GA.

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