Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Who is Who?

Finley would be John........

I'm Paul.


  1. The Swiss just do whatever
    like masturbating their doink-doinks
    deep in rural France
    in the shadow of Mont Blanc.

    Heavy, dependable
    and prepared for whatever
    the Swiss vago-simulacrum recognizes
    as larder

    King Hussein and President Fabio,
    always just about to touch each other
    on their devolved sparkle-offs
    and Neil Patrick Harris appreciation pages.

    Everyone knows when these bizzarre Swiss cometh
    they cometh with fluffy Beatles-like
    six packs of shit-covered reindeer
    knock-knocking like a bummer.

    Glitter is the Swiss Army knife
    of the most bedazzlingly ridiculous
    emotions: the part just before
    the paranoid cheese-maker says,

    “Whatever you do in Palm Springs,
    don’t yodel”—a most unusual Swiss Miss
    mixture of very early skunk and the robotic
    sadness of women’s mold

    heavy, greasy, dense and low, like
    lethargic sea-green gardens
    with a buzz overpowering, like
    modern outdoor inbreeding.

    You know you’re Swiss when,
    when foreign visitors ask to see your
    chocolate factory, you answer,
    “Why don’t you and Hannibal Lecter

    just kick out the jams?”
    ’Cause you know you got the chamber,
    the chair,
    and Fear Factor.

    --Sharon Mesmer
    "The Swiss Just Do Whatever" from Poetry (July/August, 2009)