From the mouth of the prophet Jagger
A cleaner who saw and ate
The leftovers from a rock star’s banquet
Was told by another
The food he ate was the rock star’s own
And he went suddenly mad
And subsequently died,
For the divinity of the rock star
Is as cursed as it is blessed.
That evening an Exorcist brought to the body many also oppressed by demons and he cast out the spirits with a cleansing word and healed those who were sick. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Jagger: “The dead cleaner took our illnesses and bore our diseases.”
Do NOT kiss my arse!
A great Queen wouldn’t shake a subject’s hand
Without a glove,
Her hand that had touched cutlery
After touching her undergarments
After blowing her nose
After wiping her arse
After an evacuation
Before putting on her glove.
She would never let them kiss her arse. ‘Let them kiss me with their sweet lips!’ For their love is better than wine; their anointing oils fragrant; these virgin men who love her. The Queen brings them into her chambers. There they exult and rejoice in her; they extol their love more than wine; and rightly do they love her.
The blood which dare not speaks its name
Should that old taboo remain
That menstruating women are unclean
Likewise women giving birth,
Then it can be said
That visionaries just as the warriors
The holy as well as the rich
Every male born into this world
Are cursed with the same taboo.
Afterwards, on the eighth day they shall take two tampons and bring them to the doctor, at the entrance of a medical clinic. And the doctor shall use one for a sin offering and the other for a burnt offering. And the doctor shall make atonement for them before God for their unclean discharge.
Bogans singing in the rain
It was a custom in outer suburbs
For a new Bogan
To neither chest thump
Nor touch another
Nor walk footpaths threateningly,
In that he remains ordinary
Until an initiated member
Has punched him out.
Older bogans likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much beer. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young bogans to respect their peers, to be self-controlled, pure, working in a job, thoughtful, and be submissive to their own parents, that their world of outer suburbia may not be reviled.
The spirits of redundancy
After a business takeover
Would run office hallways
Shouting and screaming
To drive away the spirits
Of those made redundant,
Haunt aisles and cubicles.
Some would then go across the sea in great ships, doing business on the great waters where they saw the deeds of the redundant, their wondrous works in the deep end. They mounted masts up to the sky; they went down to the ocean’s depths; their courage melted away in their fearful plight; they reeled and staggered like drunken executives who were at their wits’ end.
The death of Death’s sting
A murderer on death row
Did a strange thing,
He mourned for his victim
By not eating
By not masturbating
He would starve
Or be executed
Whichever came first.
And at the sounding of the last trumpet the murderer will be raised imperishable, and he shall be changed. For when the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.” “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”