Light Verses Dark Humor
by
J. F. Kinyon
E-BOOK EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Powerless Press on Smashwords
Light Verses Dark Humor
Copyright © 2010 by J. F. Kinyon
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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This book is dedicated to the memory of Andrew Foster Kinyon (my dad).
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Light Verses Dark Humor
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HOMETOWN DRIFTER
This is no town to drift in
Pallid moon, river barren
Nightshades drawn with peering eyes.
Strangers pass, suffocating
On air thick with innuendo
And the occasional lynch mob din.
Death is a way of life here
Greed, the blood that feeds
Our pleasure-seeking hearts and minds.
No one asked to be born
And raised in this hopeless state
Turned inside out and out again.
Incapable of bringing joy
Only doom and gloom
And an unbelievable history.
Will this reckless abandon
Ever come to abandon me
To enjoy your simple pleasantries?
My pleas fall on deaf ears
Or maybe I'm too blind to see
Even the very slightest of mercies.
* * * * *
BROS.
They sat together, closer than brothers
Sharing Guinness and sinsemilla
In the stillness of the work shed
Where one would later hang himself.
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DAILY ROUTINE
I wake to a bowl of my favorite breakfast cereal
Death & Mayhem, it's an acquired taste
A little hard to swallow at times, but then
Everything good for you is.
I stand in the shower for hours on end
Practicing the precepts of Onanism, but mostly
Reveling in the fact that some of the dirt
Can be washed away.
The bulk of my days are spent stalking
Long lost interests, pointless prose
I'm an abortionist in alarming proportions
A deft destroyer of the forever un-borne.
I take pride in my mechanical abilities
My rod is pumped and hard, reflecting
Not on a lack of endowment, but rather
On my need for a quick get away.
Love leaves a bad taste in my mouth
Sometimes an even worse smell on my clothes
Especially when mixed with tobacco and alcohol
But we don't have time to get into that here.
I cut my teeth on sharp wit
I cover my tracks with dark humor
I'm alive for the sake of chance
And I really hope it'll be over soon.
* * * * *
MOMENT OF INSIGHT
What lies between us
Could be called anything
But dead air
For it swirls and sparks
With the electricity
Of resentment.
Each morning we fast
At a fractured table
Speaking splintered words.
You read aloud ads
From the back of my paper
Out of spite.
The only way I can sleep
Lying next to you
Is to have my shotgun
Duct taped to your face.
This is no way to live...
Why can't you just leave me?
* * * * *
PROTAGONIST
You've got a supercharged motor mouth
Fully-blown out of all proportion
All run on sentences
And imitation intellect
Where is the insight
The hindsight
It's all small print
In a dim light
You're a featherweight shadow-boxer
I'm King Kong with a hard-on!
* * * * *
THE DEATH OF RICKY RAT
Hey there
Hi there
Ho there
You're as welcome
As a knife in the gut
Tape your mouth shut
Smell the funk
Shoved in the trunk
A bullet with your name
Another bullet
With your name
Another bullet
With your name.
* * * * *
FLOPHOUSE ON ROUTE 666
Smut mattressed under the sign of the ghost
Christened in blood, the sleep walking virgin
Rends herself upon the banister rails
Gay-hearted Jack cracks his skull-like shell.
Hatchlings feast heartily upon a gracious host
Beneath their hoods, teeth gnash like tin
Driven men peer from eighteen wheeled jails
As mud-flap girls queef their majik spell.
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GODDESS OF THE MOTHER ROAD
Chasing dreams, gathering speed
Lying naked before my high-beams
Her taut black skin, glistening.
Pert breasts rise and fall, lightly brushing
A thick dark curtain impregnated with stars
I trace the lines of her curves, cautiously.
Her beauty is timeless, as is her ability
To kill. I fear her voice yet dare not ignore
Her subtle truth, her implied promises.
Entering her portals I cross myself, hoping
Praying I have not misread my inner compass...
'This is the way you must go, forward
Never turning. Life at best is fleeting
You must enter anew, you must take full advantage
Of the challenges I shall lay at your feet'.
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WATCHING HER
Taking in the view
I am struck
By the impressions
Her features bring to mind.
Those lips
I have kissed them
More than once.
Those eyes
I have missed them
All my life.
For the weakness
Of my heart
I shall let this pass
As well.
Yet I cannot help
But watch
As she hits her cigarette