The Gout You Need

My homophonic translation of Baudelaire's Le Gout du Neant

Mourning spirit asteroid moves. The late latte

expires. Do not leprosy artistic tone. Order a

new vault and enforcer. The couch toy's sand powder

views Chevrolets. Do not let spies attack bought obstacles.

Resign toy, moon color; doors too similar to break.

Spirit veins, forbid. Poor toy, viewed the marauder's

glamour nap and the gout. Squash the dispute.

"Farewell dunce," chants the curve of soupier flutes.

Please, kneel tinted on color and somber at the boulder.

Pretend adorable pardons, Son.

Eat the temporary, engulf minute-by-minute.

Come late night immense encore. Press the reader.

Contemplate, then halt the globe and say rounder.

Eat the New York jet. Church and labor doom cahoots.

Avalanche, "view the Emperor then shoot."

occupied

their secret supplanted

society with

rumored resemblance

waits–their

elk’s elaborate cave

divulged young twins–

their physically devoted

honorary champions

inducted–

G_N

Our master mind

medication

devastated

the departed dean.

He slurred smoke pearls

through his bronze hand gland,

his heavy lungs

retired.

The old civilian,

hours killed,

adrenal elders

left.

The star stroke shot

"pleasant combat"

on this flying earth

quake tour.

Beach Boy

A boy walks the beach

With his head held high.

Sand dunes out of reach

And gulls in the sky.

Behind him a fence

And wire is tangled.

The parents he rents

Left his lunch on the table.

From his elbow a pale

Does swing back and forth.

The red shovel is frail

From digging deep in the Earth.

The grass has grown long

Like the dog days of summer.

The boy walks alone

‘Till the waves take him under.

noble chanter

take your feeding tube out

let you be parched of mouth

time to get up my little boy

time to see the world's joy

the boldest chanter in the bunch

noble chords he struck with love

i've got you in my pocket

you're alright

you've got me in your pocket

i'm alright

bright red hair

socks to the knee

in his hand

he held a trophy

he traveled the world by sea and land

he was a well traveled man

i'm a no good samaritan

that makes you the chosen one

father

my father

he was a carpenter

he left me all alone

can't find my way home

he liked to play pool

under the light bulbs

he liked to drink beer

with no fear

asked me how the weather's been

i tell you it's doing fine

nothing to talk about

we're just killing time

this weight's too heavy

can't carry the cross

taxes they levy

people you've lost