GP Skratz

G. P. Skratz (gpl@well.com) lives & works in the under-rated urban paradise of Oakland, California.

THE PHATTAGATHA

A gallon bottle, sides squared as Jack Daniels, into which a boiled chicken soaked in rum has been miraculously inserted.

Its label is crammed with text in praise of the Bible, which it calls "The Phattagatha":

I'd invited Ken Starr & his deputies back to the Map Room, & now I'm standing over their dying carcasses & laughing at the cliche of holding a literal "smoking gun." The Secret Service, of course, has rushed into the room, but they've fallen to squabbling among themselves as to their responsibilities in this matter. One is calling for medical backup. All the necessary paperwork is on my desk in the Oval Office: resignation letter to the Secretary of State, brief address to the nation, & the all-important full pardon to myself. But I, too, am paralyzed now by internal debate: I've overused the phrase, but I really feel the pain of these men, dying in disbelief. How could I even have imagined this agony at my hand? I console myself with the thought of all the monks, millions over millenia, who spent lifetimes poring over the bloodthirsty wars in the great Phattagatha: thank God for the Phattagatha!

BANJO

1.

She sat on the back porch watching the geese eat her

husband's severed penis & played "Go Tell Aunt Rhodie"

on her banjo.

He was roused from his drunken stupor by a sound he'd heard

in dream as a chainsaw felling great redwoods but he now

realized was only Carol playing her damn banjo.

Scalpel. 2 clamp. 2 clamp. Scalpel. Excavator. Scalpel.

Wedge. Scalpel. 3 clamp STAT. 2 clamp. 2 clamp.

Scalpel. Wedge. Scalpel. Banjo.

As his doomed body fell helplessly from the sky, he gave

voice to his terror through a furious rendition of the

"Beverly Hillbillies" theme, the only song he ever

learned, on his beloved banjo.

Seven eagles hovered in a halo of feathers & flesh as she

whacked the windshield of Judy's new Toyota with the

steel head of her banjo.

Most people find that the handiest place to store their drugs

is right by their banjo.

Everytime he opens his damn mouth, it's banjo this, banjo

that. Now he says he can tell the future with it. I

wish I'd been struck dead the day I thought to buy him

that fucking thing, that banjo banjo banjo.

O grant me a field of artichokes by the rough seacoast in

autumn, a dungeon of velvet restraints for evening's

repast, an ivory bridge for the banjo.

2. (after basho)

furu banjo ya

banjo tobi komo

banjo no banjo

3. (how to make a banjo)

& in the 7th banjo, on the 1st banjo of the banjo, ye shall

have an holy banjo; ye shall do no servile banjo: it is

a banjo of blowing the banjo unto you.

& ye shall offer a burnt banjo for a sweet banjo unto the

banjo; one young banjo, one banjo, & 7 banjos of the 1st

banjo without banjo;

& their meat banjo shall be of banjo mingled with banjo, 3

tenth banjos for a banjo, & 2 tenth banjos for a banjo.

& one tenth banjo for one banjo, throughout the 7 banjos;

& one banjo of the banjos for a sin banjo, to make a banjo

for you:

STATEMENT

I, a simple

simple man,

wish,

without guile,

to be the widely

admired center

of attention waging

war on france,

ascending into heaven

high on opium.

THE CHAMP

Wear a mask too long,

& your face dries up,

tears apart, blows away,

& there's nothing left to hide.

THE DAMNATION OF FAUST (& Other One-Line Poems)

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Handbook For Claimants

Go to Hell. Come back, we love you. Get a job.

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Spermicidal Jelly

traffic jam

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Mandala

eye to eye

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Vegetarian Christmas

a red shit & a green one

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Glove Compartment

The bullshit bomb explodes over my lap.

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pubic parking

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Get Serious

Get him alive if you can--but get him.

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Tears

Even my bones want to flow from my eyes.

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In Real Life

Clark Kent's secret identity is Lois Lane.

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Progress

It is the illusion we feel as the Earth regresses.

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The Stone

Any one will do--as long as it's the right one.

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Birdsong

call kiwi, call clinton, call, call

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Moon Over Oakland

moon over easy with fries.

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Religion

Kiss the damn ring, pay the guy at the door & move on.

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The Damnation of Faust

His dreams of freedom follow him like spies.

G. P. Skratz