Kosciuszko, Part One

(go ahead, press the "play" button and you get your 
very own, very special, and private poetry reading)

shaking and hating and shaking

private hatred is the best there is

little billy tells us his hatred is better

better than the hatred of his schoolmates

little billy opens his veins wide and pours in the hooch

hooch of the spannerdamner orchid squirt

(billy's favorite kind of hooch)

the hooch he drinks straight – straight into his veins

billy had the prettiest veins

veins of royal, royal blue

and the hatred in those veins was the purebred kind

(i'd drop the f-bomb now just to shock and surprise)

the kind that makes the vein taste all bitter-salty

(you know the flavor, darling)

but billy had the prettiest veins

and it was not until those veins went dry

that we all stood up and applauded

the huge crowd of people that were gathered

gathered to sing that song that I know you know

(you love that song, remember?)

(i'd gut you like a trout while you sing that song)

billy stood there with his veins hanging out

“lookit that billy”

shouted the kid from school -

the one who always reeked of blood sausage and onion

i'd call that billy something like billy reuben if I could

billy reuben

billy reuben

there we go.

but billy had that best kind of hatred, the hatred with the heavy accent

a sort of cool sort of hot sort of stickitinyerass and turntillyouscream

sort of accent

(for that makes the best kind of hatred)

billy (i would love to call him billy reuben)

held out his finger for the lady next door to see

his finger was long

and clean, thank god

clean, with no fecal matter under the nail

(like some kids)

(some kids get fecal matter under the nail)

he held up that finger for the lady next door to see

and all that hooch-pouring

vein-opening

orchid-squirting

bitter-salty f-bomb dropping days

one after the other

after the other

after the other

and billy

(if we could only call him billy reuben)

sitting on the floor and banging his head

on that dirty old cupboard

billy wanted to stink like blood sausage and onion

yeah, that's all it was

billy longed to eat that cabbage stink

and be hauled to church to do whatever they do in churches

and come to school stinking like a little polish kid

in a dumbass sweater in the merry, merry month of may

and stink

and stink

of blood sausage and onion

instead he held out his

long

clean

finger

for the lady next door to see