The Dead Man’s Hernial Groin Is Like a Canvas Bridge Across a Chasm

When George sent me the secret text and I decoded it on my Whisper 2020 Decoder Ring	I had doubts my storming the Capitol, leading Cracker Cadres into the inner sanctums and	ultimately smoking a joint in Mike Pence's chair behind the podium in the Senate chamber, would successfully	DESTROY CRACKER AMERICA FOREVER AND EVER
AND ISSUE IN A GLORIOUS BLM REIGN OF JOE ANTIFA BIDEN	I had just planned to cash my $20 check from Bank of Hungary afterwards and call itquits (sic)	but now that American Crackers are shamed into extinction, their leaders publically disemboweled,	I wonder if and when George will send me another assignment and if I'll ever get a seat in the Politboro

 

Leaving in style	Would be dead	Cops will not try to stop white people	Would be dead	^^^SALEM 66^^^
Change v reinforcement	Nothing, as in not a thing, has changed in Crackerstan	Meanwhile	2020's extinct species	It'd been a couple of years since I thought of Salem 66

THE BOOK OF THE DEAD MAN #15

Marvin Bell

1. About the Dead Man and Rigor Mortis

The dead man thinks his resolve has stiffened when the

             ground dries.

Feeling the upward flow of moisture, the dead man thinks his

             resolve has stiffened.

The dead man’s will, will be done.

The dead man’s backbone stretches from rung to rung, from here to

             tomorrow, from a fabricated twinge to virtual agony.

The dead man’s disks along his spine are like stepping-stones across

             a lake, the doctor told him “jelly doughnuts” when they

             ruptured, this is better.

The dead man’s hernial groin is like a canvas bridge across a

             chasm, the doctor said “balloon” when they operated,

             this is better.

The dead man’s toes are like sanded free forms and his heels are as

             smooth as the backs of new shoes, the doctor said “corns”

             when they ached, this is better.

The dead man’s eyes are like tiny globes in water, continental

             geographies in microcosm, all the canyons are visible, now

             washed of random hairs that rooted, now free of the

             strangulated optics of retinal sense, this is better.

All the dead man’s organs, his skin, muscles, tendons, arteries, veins,

             valves, networks, relays—the whole shebang hums like a

             quickly deserted hardware store.

To the dead man, a head of cabbage is a forerunner of nutrients.

The dead man’s garden foreshadows the day it is to be plowed under,

             agriculture being one of the ancient Roman methods for

             burying the Classics, the other was war.

No one can argue with the dead man, he brooks no interference

             between the lightning and ground, his determination

             is legendary.

2. More About the Dead Man and Rigor Mortis

You think it’s funny, the dead man being stiff?

You think it’s an anatomically correct sexual joke?

You think it’s easy, being petrified?

You think it’s just one of those things, being turned to stone?

Who do you think turns the dead man to stone anyway?

Who do you think got the idea first?

You think it’s got a future, this being dead?

You think it’s in the cards, you think the thunder spoke?

You think he thought he was dead, or thought he fancied he was

             dead, or imagined he could think himself dead, or really

             knew he was dead?

You think he knew he knew?

You think it was predetermined?

You think when he stepped out of character he was different?

What the hell, what do you think?

You think it’s funny, the way the dead man is like lightning, going

             straight into the ground?

You think it’s hilarious, comedy upstanding, crackers to make

             sense of?