Its Grid of Holes Insatiably Hungry

I've been working on my haiku delivery system, the plan to tiles that can slide into any order randomly or by design	Invisible evidence is not evidence	I have more haiku poems accepted those the zine has gone dark, fine metaphors abound	Eight red takes for Biden Year One	I discovered that linking in sheets requires triple-checking, fine metaphors abound as I suck suck suck suck suck at excel
Fuck you: a disquisition	I've also come to a temporary peace with myself re this blog and what the fuck as in do it here or don't do it at all	Shitlords	Yes, screaming at the clusterfuck triples pings over clusterfucklessness I scream at clusterfuck because I want to	Crackers
I hate cops	Flags of the Union of Socialist Council Republics of America	I have not successfully negotiated w myself the terms of my clusterfucklessness and still want to spit our clusterfuck's overlords	American Exceptionalism!	IHMD
Capitalism!	A few kind words about pretension	Where do we go from here?	So testing a possible haiku delivery system by posting links to infuriating duh (along with links to lovely mwah)	Our theme is wounds
Currently I plan to keep pOj open and clusterfuckfree (or at least not overtly clusterfuckful) though post here whatever I post there	One year ago I wasn't writing but was self-portraiting, I haven't self-portraited in months, used a fountain pen in months	While there is a randomizing grid command for excel I don't think it will work on blog (though I'll try) and won't work on paper	Will attempt Fleabus in a cat carrier to vet this morning, pray for us both	Shitlords
Fine metaphors abound	Are you shivering?	New Ishiguro March 2021!	This format will be more than a once off here but less than an all of the time	Black Mystery School Pianists
While this IS a bleggalgaze, the first openly bleggalgazy bleggalgaze in more than a year, using this format in the future does not require a bleggalgaze	NYT Harold Budd obituary	Unreleased just released Neil Young song!	Have discovered the issue of links in a grid in a spreadsheet problem with this format, more proof that those years in CCD still affect me	I do not need one tablet for clusterfucklessness and another for clusterfuckfulness, no more new tablets for false starts, so at least that
Simon the Good	Bleggalgaze: thank you More than imaginary friends less than burdens	If you said you would come with me	me or about me to me Bleggalgaze: orb pinged to ring my doorbell	I was reminded of Magazine, so this weekend's trip to my CD crates

 

FABLE

Tom Sleigh

A little village in Texas has lost its idiot.
-Caption on a protest sign

Let us deal justly.
-Edgar, disguised as Poor Tom, from Shakespeare's King Lear; act 3, scene 6

But where, oh where is the holy idiot,

truth teller and soothsayer, familiar

of spirits, rat eater, unhouseled wanderer

whose garble and babble fill rich and poor,

homeless and housed, with awe and fear?

Is he hiding in the pit of the walkie-talkie,

its grid of holes insatiably hungry,

almost like a baby, sucking in the police sergeant's

quiet voice as he calls in reinforcements?

Oh holy idiot, is that you sniffing the wind

for the warm turd smell on the mounted policemen

backing their horses' quivering, skittish

haunches into the demonstrators' faces?

Oh little village among the villages,

the wild man, the holy Bedlamite is gone,

and nobody, now, knows where to find him...

Lying in mud? lying caked in mud, hair elfed into knots?

Some poor mad Tom roving the heath

for a warm soft place to lie his body down,

his speech obsessed with oaths, demons,

his tongue calling forth the Foul Fiend, Flibbertigibbet

as the horses back slowly, slowly into the crowd

and he eats filth, he crams his ravenous mouth with filth—

and then he sits on his stool in the trampled hay

and deep-rutted mud, he anoints himself

with ashes and clay, he puts on his crown

of fumiter weed and holds his scepter

of a smouldering poker and calls the court to order.