In the Pulp Industry

by Bob Folder In the pulp industry Success has a very distinctive perfume The perfume of Eucalyptus globulus Nurtured and expertly grown by Portucel In its vast forests In Portugal These special trees Provide the best of white pulps The extraordinary efficiency Of Portucel Industrial’s factories and methods Does the rest Ensuring not only theContinue reading “In the Pulp Industry”

The Folderist Manifesto

Although it might seem lazy and anachronistic to do so I do so. I have condescended and deemed it necessary. I have wheedled and cajoled, bullied and pleaded. I have come to no conclusions. The jury is still out, to return momentarily, hung. In the meantime I dangle, undecided, before my very nose, unwilling toContinue reading “The Folderist Manifesto”

Sonnet For A Landlocked Numeral

The sampans rust into a slight nod Feel the black shine lantern boom and Bob Crusts against the ancient King of time that shines and oils down a rebar rod “I want you Bob, yes, I’ll make you mine” Quoth she, spammed to touch the knob fidgeting and relaxing to black the tab and sawedContinue reading “Sonnet For A Landlocked Numeral”

The Conversation

Sam Waterson is the devil, really Ham samitch lovely lovely ladies Buffalo George’s we called him the Jewish Danny Glover Spoon-fed quadriceps bar-b-qued noodle factory Fortinbras was a fag Sally O’Malley was a pretty little fillie C-R-A-Z-Z-E-E Pop pop pow! Weeping in my jello Thomas Edison chased me with a wire Ball lightning I wasContinue reading “The Conversation”

Letter to the Editor

Dear Flan Iliescu, I called you last night but you were out selling werewolf costumes to Albanian immigrants freezing tripe in garbage bags in horizontal freezers to vend at dawn to an unsuspecting alphabetic public heavy on sentimentality and low on milk. Ballard echoes with revolutionary enthusiasms. Clients of Kidder Peabody donate nine-irons and statuesContinue reading “Letter to the Editor”

Overheard In Steve’s Broiler

You guys a wrestler? You can get two or more grapes it’ll be alright You know a guy Nixon? Marie Marie bumblebee two spoons, tomato and a How do you make any money Smirnoff and beer Excersize and sushi but Elisha’s miracle on the Astroturf We should bum some spam and rice Through two people’sContinue reading “Overheard In Steve’s Broiler”

A Salchichón In The Haghia Sofia

I have been accused Of hydroponics in the night, A wimpled tart in stained glass To the naked anvil and the bitter ripe Lentils of the neutered paired to last. Rank on my squishy and I’ll launch goulash. Chalk up the old piano, blistered and rum. Rocketships are a bitter herb. Granted, there are someContinue reading “A Salchichón In The Haghia Sofia”