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i am the dissident poetician...i tear down fences with sardonic sardines and metaphysical cucumbers

Tuesday, February 26, 2013


from trauma to more trauma
these are our ways
we shall lock them all up
and let the odd one drown
in the perilous journey
to our migration zone
and we shall continue
to lock them up
we shall label them
as 'illegals' just
some arab scum
we will protect
our nation as best
we can we will
dictate to the sheep
the people glued
to 3D plasma televisions
divide and conquer
and we shall lock
up some Hazaras
and we will lock
up their children,
don't let anyone
photograph the
conditions at
Naura, at Papua
New Guinea
the tents will
all be air-conditioned
and all the toilets
will have no doors
they don't deserve
to have privacy
no one shall
take photographs
of any of the misery
who cares if four
people sewed their
lips together
they are just doing it
to get our
we don't care
if our stranglehold
on the freedom
of the media imitates we
shall adopt the same
restrictions as North
Korea, we
shall deny any
attempts to take
photographs nobody
will see how
wonderful the facilities
are and how cost
effective it is, we
shall detain them
without a certain
date of release or
deportation after
we grant them asylum
for a year or two
before we fly them
back to war torn countries
we can do whatever
we like we shall
piss on Geneva
and declare how
much of a fiscal drain
they are in this
splenderous nation
of ours all multicultural
and classless we
shall defend our
borders from the
huge influx of those
illegals and terrorists
we shall decide who
can or can't enter
this wonderful land
built on the destruction
of 'Terra Nullius" that's 
how we proudly
built up this land of
ours we shall rightfully
claim this land for
the queen and the
motherland we will
place the wedge
in all the right
places, it 's open warfare


it's hell, right here in this world,
not for me, not for you
but for those who
work and work and work
for a fucking pittance
unable to give their children
a proper education
you may come across 
a homeless man
but you know 
he's still going to eat 
tonight, yes it's food
but the man with the scyth
will not be able 
to dance tonight
because we live here
with our flashy cars
and pristine mansions
they will never see 
what they refuse to see
as the man with the coffee
is unable to dance
because he's working 
for a pittance
but he will not
take this shit anymore
so he puts down his scyth
and picks up a machete
and hacks through
all the bullshit
and he takes back
what is rightfully his
they shall never
take our property
back off us
on the back
of back-breaking 
we shall rise up
and take
it back

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

dada manifesto


Before going down among you to pull out your decaying teeth, your running ears, your tongues full of sores,
Before breaking your putrid bones,
Before opening your cholera-infested belly and taking out for use as fertilizer your too fatted liver, your ignoble spleen and your diabetic kidneys,
Before tearing out your ugly sexual organ, incontinent and slimy,
Before extinguishing your appetite for beauty, ecstasy, sugar, philosophy, mathematical and poetic metaphysical pepper and cucumbers,
Before disinfecting you with vitriol, cleansing you and shellacking you with passion,
Before all that,
We shall take a big antiseptic bath,
And we warn you
We are murderers.

(Manifesto signed by Ribemont-Dessaignes and read by seven people at the demonstration at the Grand Palais des Champs Elysées, Paris, 5 February 1920).

You are all indicted; stand up! Stand up as you would for the Marseillaise or God Save the King…
Dada alone does not smell: it is nothing, nothing, nothing.
It is like your hopes: nothing.
like your paradise: nothing.
like your idols: nothing.
like your politicians: nothing.
like your heroes: nothing.
like your artists: nothing.
like your religions: nothing.
Hiss, shout, kick my teeth in, so what? I shall still tell you that you are half-wits. In three months my friends and I will be selling you our pictures for a few francs.

(Manifeste cannibale dada by Francis Picabia, read at the Dada soirée at the Théâtre de la Maison de l’Oeuvre, Paris, 27 March 1920.)

Monday, February 11, 2013


you breed pestilence
because you chase
American Dreams
your sordid arrogance
in selfish memes
and I -
I spit
on your dreams
and your lunacy
with iconclastic
of vitriol
you will have
your day in paradise
but you will
never see
your shit stained
vantage point
of bourgeois privilege
every dog
shall take a bite
out of
every other dog
but I shall have
my porridge
and regurgitate it
at your dirty