The Million Dollar Poetry Project

little pig, little pig

by Wolfgang Nibori

transistor tested hourly, marks upon my circuitry
flicker, flicker electric widget stamper
balled you up, tossed in the filthy hamper
snap your fingers, roaches come a’running
should i not make light of poverty?
it seems a joke could ease the pressure
of a blank account that’s choking me
yet it just goes on and on and on
try to drag me down to wring me out
even lightning quick can’t happen quick enough
in the woodpecker spirit of things, i keep knocking
on fortune’s door until i thought it over
decide it’s time to plant c-4

this poem for Sale: 13 lines = $13.00

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signs of evil

by Wolfgang Nibori

driving through the desert, arizona 2004

Clear Channel’s hostile takeover downing stations

left and right, mainly right, drowning heroes

submerging any hope beneath a soup-trough of pop

staining everything not clear, but money-colored

a billboard from god urging obedience, attendence

arrogance astounding and heretical, in my eyes

who pretends to speak to god aside from scoundrels

wicked-worded slithering serpent-worshippers, if you ask me

dancing decadence while other dies for narcoleptic reasons

skimming off the top of the charts, xeroxing, repeat

my ears would vomit if they could

since they cannot, i spew this instead

Inspiration: Corporate Landscaping

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it’s a toxic universe out there, kid!

by Wolfgang Nibori

what comes from cans uncurling through vapor

unravelling itself a droplet at a time to splash

as likely on your wall as mine, scrawling across cities

stretching between points marked by urban wildlife

tossing up gangsigns the way tomcats pass territorial rites

people get so crazed with anger on the sight of art

turning basic boredom of metropolitan factory-stamping

into something recognizable, different, adolescent

then transform that same form into visions

images they long to see, repeating self-same conformity

suddenly praise in place of fines, vandalism toasted by wine

mewling bitter minds begrudging casual decoration

burst open at recognition, accepting avant garde notions

slap in the face of the same impoverished nightmare

giving birth to subcultural marketing millions

catapulting a handful of celestial points in darkness

before spotlights nationwide in nature

collective digestive process called capitalism

invest wisely

Inspiration: Interstellar Windows Opening Live

This poem for sale.

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