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Carlo C Gomez Feb 2022
Tommy guns for insurance
And wads of sweaty cash
To build new empires with

But there are no guarantees
Crime, you see, doesn't pay
You can bank on it

So we already know how it ends:
They canceled his policy
And Dunaway with her
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2022
Prune away the rumors
Run all those 'little whiles' together
But you won't get forever
Dream of obituaries
Under the apricot tree
Because those who built
This future are dead
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2022
Once at the guillotine

Now an out-of-focus angel

"Crime is shame, not the scaffold!"

She's got a '45 strapped

To each of her thighs

Speaks French with a Martian accent

Wishes she was a siren

When bathed in happy thoughts

Wishes she was the ladybird

When her wings

Confuse amuse transfuse

Into dreams of blood

Lukewarm prisoner

Detained for seven years

Now lies beside her

Asking for a helping hand

She loosens her corset

But tightens her grip
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2021
Nothing to see here,
turn the volume down.

Commercials are a gravel pit,
these channels, toy guns

--they shoot muddy water
in your eye.

I'd rather a quiet night
cleaning the ducts
of my conscience.

The night is hopelessly
concerned for the ozone.

My fluffless pillows are clouds
in a pay-per-view sky,

Too wound up in its
binge watching of *** in Egypt
to care about the sun's wrath.

Look! My hot next door neighbor
is exercising in the **** again,
with the curtains wide open.

I'll watch her instead...
Carlo C Gomez May 2021
[begin transmission]

Little mean marble,
the grasshopper lies heavy,
riding storms
and trailing winds,
eating dystopia
right out of the box

suns and daughters
of the cataclysm
sit about a space
cadet's campfire,
hints of alien sand
in their voices

it so oddly resembles
vast outland libretto,
that breathe of menace,
inside sojourners
holding tickets to ride
tramlines on shuttle days

swarming with
Walter Mitty groupies
and econowives,
transporting ****, rapture,
and/or reproduction to worlds
of public domain

one day we'll settle here,
one day, with bowed heads,
we'll kiss the splendor
of its red ruination

[end transmission]
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2021
Ziegfield girls with Gatling guns
in complete synchronization,
decked out in Erté.
Watch your step, soldier,
for what's often considered foreplay.

Much like Peter and the Wolf,
one thing leads to another
on this daisy chain,
and as you know,
Burke's only jealous of Lorainne.

I'll tell you what,
dress warm for the ******* snowstorm,
and there'll be a place alongside
such an ingenue.
But what a terrible let down
it would be to find out
she was always smarter than you.
Erté (pronounced AIR TAY): Romain de Tirtoff's pseudonym; he was a 20th-century artist and designer in an array of fields, including fashion, jewellery, costume and set design for film, theatre, and opera.
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