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Marshall Gass Apr 2014
Lining up batteries of anti-aircraft anti-everything
all anti- something this and that
distribution centre for psychological pressure
backed by radio, TV presidents staring straight
newspapers, journals and dialogues around
flash round tables on the whys how’s and who’s
sneaky microphone hidden in flower pots,
long distance listening devices. Telephones tapped
wives tapped, senior diplomats and doormats tapped
wives tapped on shoulders
whispered to: watch out for Joe blogs he has a roving eye.
see me tonight, after dinner.

The russians have warship A into Zone B
the chinese have shifted anti-missile up
the mountains near tibet, near nepal
near taiwan, near  the hormuz straits
into africa, zimbabwe, fiji, and northern china
who cares. Tomorrow they will shift out again.
the pressure is building in the ukraine, turkey is on fire
The north koreans have no power
as seen from satelllites
The president has run of tomato sauce so he has asked
for a shipload from us of a
ship it with some spies dressed as tomatoes

god its killing me
these acupuncture points
three more needles please!

Author Notes
Relentless. ( an wacky I s'pose). Think about it all.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Jom Jul 2016
In this dream,
your mouth devoured the moon like a lunar eclipse.
your words so tender,
they draw the ocean to us,
the tide rushes in and we float into the sea.
we glow phosphorescent like satelllites,
and together we close our eyes,
we dont sink.

in this dream,
we are on a midnight parade across town,
walking barefeet growing poppies in pavement cracks.
the procession turns into a death march
but we are not scared.
we continue to walk until the light takes us,
we hold hands,
weightless like helium
like the stars' cores
melting into the skyline.
I think we will be
the first stars who defy death,
outgrow the universe.

in this dream,
we lay beneath an ancient tree where
fireflies make love and give birth to stars.
we hold hands until we lose track
of time and the roots fuse
us with the soil and dirt.
teenagers will have stolen kisses by our tree,
carve their initials on us.
When the lumberjacks
cut it down, they will see the tree rings
shaped like the both of us
embracing inside the trunk,
decades of good love they cant count the circles.

in this dream,
all I can remember
is a lavender you tucked
behind my ear and
a kiss that tastes like
a summer garden.
you told me I was so beatiful
you would bury me in the meadow.
in this dream,
I wish I didnt wake up.

— The End —