the new literary criticism
i executed thrift store books,
swift trial w/ jury deliberation.
Anne Rice, His Nibs Hubbard,
pulp fiction vampires, Amway dianetics,
gorean chronicles, microwave cookbooks;
you, sirs and madam, will be shot at dawn.
make peace w/ your publishers,
i am the master and margarita,
the underground man wishing you well.
dawn, the mourning sun,
found me parading a surplus uniform to
cock-crow cadences; herring-bone + overcoat,
bayonet and rifle. criminals lined, blindfolded.
any last requests? closing words? parting shots?
they had none,
condemned men denied cigarettes,