SLEEPS WITH THE FISHES

so much neon
in your newspaper today boys
hard to
stare unblinkingly
at truth in the raw

scan L to R (or R to
L if your
tongue be Arabic)
garner that fat wad
of nursery rhyme
shenanigans and scandals

death, even here,
order of the day (as
Foucault might say)
what now
jumping the moon
but a joint of prime sirloin

and talking of joints
how are
the cartels
doing in this time
of economic recession?

but best of all
on the backpage itself (place
we all
fly to)
next to the feature on
the player whose
dick seems to
dictate the
travails of his
left foot

chips
sleep

with the fishes
(how could we
have not

seen this
coming

death by full cliche, sly
strangling of text?)

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