KILLER POET LAUREATE

“He looks like Heathcliff; he 
is rough, passionate, forceful”
—Jill Barber
______________

I was nothing but a Murderer—
Mytholmroyd Hoodlum of the Moors

I slaughtered the English Muse—
Like I caught and killed stupid rabbits

I skinned and gutted them raw—
All bloody there in the kitchen sink
________________

But Sylvia Plath my American wife—
She hated my guts for doing it

She wanted me to be Wolf in bed—
But not in her clean tidy kitchen

She was afraid of me all the time—
Surely I’d kill her & the kids someday
___________________

What else could she expect from a—
Yorkshire Killer like Jack the Ripper?

The same with Eliot and Auden—
Those pansy British poets of renown

Down on their knees giving me a—
Blowjob for British Poetry posterity
________________

Especially Auden & his nelly lover—
Chester Kallman & his young Gk soldiers

Going down on them in the Acropolis—
In the ancient naked Athens moonlight

These were the nelly British queens who—
Slithered in Britain's Waste Land of Fags
_______________

They clung to me at cocktail parties—
Attracted to my butch Mexborough smirk

The more I scorned and ignored them—
The more they wanted to publish me

It was surely Publish or Perish for them—
They craved my sullen Killer Poet Instinct 
___________________

Something they couldn’t possibly possess—
Even Sylvia when she got me, hated me

As long as there were New England coeds—
And wanton sluts in the poetry readings

She couldn’t be sure I was totally hers—
Especially when Assia put the make on me
_________________

I was a Killer poet, killing both of them—
Gassing them both to death to shut 'em up

Assia the accomplice who helped me shove—
Sylvia's unconscious body deep into her oven

Women were like hunted trapped rabbits—
Caught in my strong hands, choked to death
_____________

The British Empire always ruled by Killers—
A Killer Poet Laureate is just what they need!!!

CADILLAC 

Garish chrome-tittie Cadillac—
Sleek Americana Land Cruiser

Gimme back the Fifties again—
Detroit before the Denouement

Gimme back the Sleek Fins—
That Marilyn Monroe Plush Gush

Gimme back the Good Times—
The Cadillac Consciousness

SALOME (1953)

Nothing like a campy—

Hollywood Sword & Sandal

Biblical Epic to Butch me

Up for Sunday School!!!

To face the Christians—

Slithering every Sunday

Guilting me severely with

Damning demeaning Hell!!!

And to think, my dears—

Christians once back then

Such Fearful Closet Cases

Under the Roman sword!!!

Both Charles Laughton—

And Miss Stewart Granger

Such flaming LA Queens

What Faggy Filmographies!!!

“Salome” tells the story—

About Christian persecution

John the Baptist’s holy head

Plopped on a Silver Platter!!!

How things have changed—

Rome the New Religious Right

Jerry Fartwell & Jimmy Swaggart

Preaching hatred for all Queers!!!

Backed by rabid Mormonism—

And Revered Edie Long Dong

Christians the New Persecutors

Let Salome begin her Dance!!!

SALOME

“At Princeton on Monday a freshman
asked Antonin Scalia to explain his
legal writings comparing sodomy
bans with laws prohibiting bestiality
and murder.”—Juliet Lapidos
The NYTimes December 11, 2012

The exquisite Beardsley—

Illustrations for Salome,

My dear, so very campy

And preciously naughty

The same with campy—

Miss Wilde doing her own

Drag version of his

Kitschy play “Salome”

But Rita Hayworth’s—

Movie of Miss Salome

With the enthralled

Queen Charles Laughton

Takes camp beyond—

The beyond until the

Head of John the Baptist

Gets plopped on the plate

Miss Stewart Granger—

Doesn’t butch things up

Very much either when

It comes to Salome

No matter how many—

Dances of the Seven Veils

It would surely take a

Thousand veils to conceal

Poor John the Baptist—

Didn’t have a chance

Not with Judith Anderson,

Rita Hayworth and Charles

Laughton in the wings

Judge Scalia should ban—

This shocking flick because

Of its sodomy, bestiality

And murder most foul!!!!

The Game Begins

"And now my dears, 

the Game begins......"

The New York Times

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/08/us/supreme-court-agrees-to-hear-two-cases-on-gay-marriage.html?_r=0 

Graham Greene: The Enemy Within

By Michael Shelden

“While Norman Sherry is still engaged in writing his hugely detailed, three-volume Greene biography comes this deconstructionist effort by the author of studies of Cyril Connolly and Orwell. Shelden began work intending an "affectionate portrait," but "along the way I kept uncovering unpleasant facts." That is a considerable understatement. Shelden has portrayed Greene as an eternal manipulator, of friends as well as of the world press; as a man whose ostensible religion and politics were shams, whose early books?including the much-admired Brighton Rock?contained reprehensible anti-Semitic elements; and, artistically, as a writer who underwent a decline after The Heart of the Matter in 1948, with only occasional glimpses (as in The Human Factor of 1978) of the huge talents he once possessed. Although Greene was renowned for his louche sexual habits (Shelden asserts he could have authored a splendid guide to the world's best brothels), it has not previously been documented that he had homosexual inclinations. Shelden avers that in his hideaway on Capri, he dallied with young boys, and that there are passages in his work that can only be seen as the product of a gay sensibility. Shelden's scrutiny of Greene's work is scrupulous, and certainly suggests that some reassessment of much of it is in order. In the case of Greene's private life, it is clear that his habitual evasiveness and cunning render many of his actions subject to various interpretations. Shelden's book is certainly an impressive brief for the prosecution, even if this most mysterious of contemporary writers continues ultimately to baffle and elude us.”— From Publishers Weekly

Mildred Pierce

MILDRED PIERCE

Ann Bylth
Zachary Scott
Lana Turner
Joan Crawford

Ann Bylth

“Veda, I think I’m really seeing

you for the first time in my life,

and you’re cheap and horrible.”

—Joan Crawford in

“Mildred Pierce” (1945)

I ended up, of course—

In a mildewing version

Of Mildred Pierce

Playing a tres bitchy—

Spoiled-rotten slutty

Little tramp like Veda

Putting the make on—

My Mother’s handsome

Slinky second husband

I was such a whore—

Betraying my lovely

Joan Crawford mother

She couldn’t believe it—

When she found me

Sucking off Zachary Scott

Zachary Scott

Once you’ve seen one—

You’ve seen them all

The male gigolo types

Zachary Scott playing—

Monte Beragon getting

Just what he deserved

For calling me just a—

Rotten little tramp

When he was one too

Mommy Dearest—

Played such a simply

Divine Blanche after

I pushed her down—

The stairs in her nice

Little old wheelchair

Lana Turner

One thing’s for sure—

Both Joan Crawford and

Lana Turner were alike

They both had rotten—

Daughters just like me

It was such a shame

Sandra Dee tricked—

With John Gavin in

“Imitation of Life”

Just like mulatto—

Slutty Susan Kohner

Betrayed Juanita Moore

I was no different—

Just a rotten little tramp

Like the other girls

Joan Crawford

Queer Theory Queens—

Are trashing & dishing

Me behind my back

They’re saying I’m—

Either outmoded or

The epitome of camp

I used to be a Diva—

In movies like Whatever

Happened to Baby Jane.

Bette Davis and me—

We were the Queen Bees

Of Hollywood Babylon!!!

Even tho trashy imitators—

Like Faye Dunaway try to

Mime Mommy Dearest