Dedrick Estiltaph

Dedrick Estiltaph Poems

it's that the pops occur.
it's that I hear them well.

that sweet nectar of backhand
and chin-scrape

my body built wierd
to prepare for the alien ending and
its three grass orbs shooting off flames
like peculiar fireflys.

I rock out to chairs;
my morning breathe of Nietzsche
streams bode-'Fore-Bode'
name is he the goes by

wouldn't you're like
to grip him's optic nerve m'
rip snort -tort- shell-is from

Is a great place when you're sober.
The birds chiere;
Flowers breethe;
Friends laugh slow,

Oh! and he jumps face first
into absinthe [proper stowing
means abscess
around the vowels],

Virginia Apgar died


a clearing in woods near my sidekick

dry stocks in plunging likeness:



down steps she walks in white,
shined, shining of spit.

Dedrick Estiltaph Biography

Mr. Estiltaph wasn't available for comment due to a bad heart, so I, Axadreary Millafone, will fill in some details. Dedrick was a poor boy, born without shoes on his feet. He wandered from town to town with a box on his head, like a robot might, if he were pretending to be man. One day, he encountered the spoken word, which came from, you guessed it, a mouth. He would have encountered the written word first, but, the box prohibited that from happening. Needless to say either world of either word hasn't been the same since he discovered either one, and either will you, now. Happy hunting and I wish you the best of luck removing that ridiculous box from your head.)

The Best Poem Of Dedrick Estiltaph

We Hold This Girl To Be Self-Evident

it's that the pops occur.
it's that I hear them well.
it's these discussions
about god and the emphatic nature
of our human selves
while cashing my check from the state.

this country is my favorite I've only lived in
three so far.
I've been asked to leave a couple
for fighting with my brothers
the Israelites.
to get political but they can go screw themselves
with their flag and stolen land.

i don't follow it well,
but I hear they bomb people religiously.
that's wrong.
you should bomb people because you hate them
because your god hates them.

i will not strap a bomb to my chest.
i will not eat ham with lettuce on sunday.
i will not ask you for anymore money.
you've warned me about that.
i lost your college fund in a freak boating accident.
it was not
a scam to raise war bonds.

anyway i'm not holding people hostage
who have friends now
i'm only holding people hostage
who have no friends.
it's not as effective
but my sleep is less interrupted
by phone calls.

you probably thought I was picked up for espionage
or soliciting prostitution
I'm running low on dough.
at least our god in the sky
understands my need for $300
if he forgives them every time a bomb
he'll do for me every time my checks bounce.

you should probably do the same.
save the lectures and stuff
robes of men.
I hear enough in school,
not that I've been going,
but I think its super-important to
give teachers jobs.
they're the backbone of the economy
I'd like to dismantle with bomb fragments.
you know, install something where we can have more fun.
marx was a sleaze, but maxine loves her commune.
she's only been gang-raped once.
I think I'm going to move there soon,
once this ankle bracelet comes off.

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