Nick Demske




Inc ompliance with federal law, you are hereby
Notified that a pest control service application
May or may not have been performed on this poem or certain, nearby
Poems of separate origin.  Anything you say or do can

And will be used against you in an act of contrition;
Para Español, marqué dos.  I got an autographed edition
of The Iliad off e-bay.  I got a father that weeps
at what’s traditionally wept at.  I want to eat

your excretia.  Women and children first, sir.
Paper or plastic?  Dying or dead?  Make up your mind,
Man.  This is an elegy, not an ode
And I, the highest priestess of this town commode

Hereby defibrillate these cadavers for fun.  I go
Pee in the sink.  I dance.  I sing.  I love to say I told you so.





An idea’s value depreciates the moment
You drive it off the lot.  More proof this “literature”
Fad passes with each iamb.  Peppermint
Schnapps compliments uninsured Hummers like an over

Eager metro sexual.  But it’s just a waning
Gibbous briefly waxing poetic.  How long till each strophe
Degrades to diluvian Pop culture references?  Aging trophy
Husband, virgin waxed Brazilian—why

Do we invest so recklessly in stock pronounced a plummet?
This yacht has sailed.  If there’s such thing as love
At first sight.  If there’s such thing as out of sight and out of
Fashion, you’re Go-Go boots, love.  When your pulse summits,

The EKG tweets “sell” in Morse code
Through gold fronts.  And it’s going: once. twice.    sold.





There is no peace, saith the Lord, unto the wicked. 
Sorry to rain on your pride parade.  The matri
Arch has come to terms              most derogatory, developmentally stunted.
The matriarch caught with his pants down, salty

As Lot’s wife herself.  God is a virgin
Which explains a lot.  God is a Christian,
Initiating full-blown AIDS like foreplay. 
If the forbidden fruit tastes abominable, you’re saved,

You’re deviant, you’re unnatural.  I’m out.Peace   be with you.  Be not afraid.
It’s just a stage.  God is love, uncer
Tain restrictions may apply, void
Where prohibited, This is my alter

Ego, This is my altar boy, This is my two shekels.
The matriarch knows God.  Personally.                 In the biblical sense.





“mortals were careful [then] and never forsook the shores of their homelands.”

The Holocaust never existed.  What are you going to do
About it?  The Holocaust never happened, but your mother’s autopsy reveals
It can if you just believe.  To
Page this person, press five now.  All sales fatal.  All sales

Symbolically representative of mortality.  I know a woman so redolent
Of pulchritude you’d contract second
Hand erectile dysfunction from the mere hint of her figment. 
The Holocaust never happened.  Better luck next time.  A woman

So pulchritudinous you want to turn away, as far away
As humanly possible.  I meant to do that. For old time’s sake.  When
You’re finished recording, please hang up and try
Again.  God is of not much use here, like a lesbian

So beautiful she turns gay men
Straight.  I don’t believe in the Holocaust.      Amen.





for Dave Geisler

Stay out of grown folks’ business.  Do not stare at the burn on her
Face.  Do not stare at the views and opinions expressed here
Are not necessarily the views and opinions of Nick Demske, the quaint, cowed,
Cupcake of a schoolboy.  The French toast begging your pardon.  Say it loud:

“I’m white and I’m ashamed!”  I’m a tramp on the streets and a Jesus freak
In the bed.  Don’t ask stupid questions?  At a low, low price?     Point and click.
Shuck and Jive.       Do you want to feel
My scars?  My sweet topography, like rubberized Braille?
I thought you’d never ask.

                                                I wouldn’t.  Nor tell.
Do not look directly at the poem.  Offer val
Id only at participating locations.  MF
A.  Slave dialect.  I want your native tongue in the recess

Es of my throat like I want to command a better mastery of the patriarch’s all potent argot.     Alls I’m trying to say is                                  [section omitted]

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