Flammeus Gladius

Carmina et Verba pro Discipulis Meis

Month: December, 2018

Stupid Lie

Stupid Lie

When he can’t think of any other crap,
He tells the stupid lie that he is smart.
Wound in a sort of psychic bubble wrap
When he can’t think of any other crap,
He snares his ankle in his own damn trap
And makes of imbecility an art.
When he can’t think of any other crap,
He tells the stupid lie that he is smart.

–Tom Riley

When You Can Fake Truthfulness, You’ve Got It Made

When You Can Fake Truthfulness, You’ve Got It Made

Though an utterly false motherfucker,
Mark Shea is a devoted upchucker
Of the semblance of truth.
Been that way since his youth.
Buy a bunch of his books today, sucker!

–Tom Riley

Pistol-Packing Punk

Pistol-Packing Punk

Ha! Rick carries a handgun! He’ll drill you
If you mess with him. No shit: he’ll kill you!
He’s not kidding at all.
Join him, though, in a stall
And his fingers will labor to thrill you.

–Tom Riley

Man’s Man

Man’s Man

Hey, Rick makes his own AR-15s!
I’m a man’s man is what this news means.
Yes, he’s baring his fangs.
In men’s men’s rooms he hangs—
And he does what punks do in such scenes.

–Tom Riley

Everything Rick Wilson Touches Ejaculates

Everything Rick Wilson Touches Ejaculates

Rick haunts men’s rooms – but haunts them in style.
Does he care that we think his acts vile?
He does not need to care.
Every guy he meets there
Will emerge with a burgeoning smile.

–Tom Riley

Epitaph on a Political Consultant

Epitaph on a Political Consultant

Rick’s the master of obsolete arts
That were never worth more than two farts.
Now his shit is unloaded
And his world is exploded.
No more ignorance posing as smarts!

–Tom Riley

Welfare Recipient

Welfare Recipient

Is Mark Shea sucking on the welfare tit?
Of course he is – and with unbounded pride.
Thus with the poor his blubber is allied.
Thus does he give vile Christianists a fit.
A parasite who thinks that he’s a wit,
He bodies forth self-righteous gab, and snide,
Against the fools who’ve questioned him, or tried.
Why should he get a job and all that shit?
It is an honor to support Mark Shea,
O you who think your dollars are your own,
O you who fail with true delight to pay
Your taxes! As apologist he’s known—
But sorry he will never be to say
You owe him. Get it? Modify your tone!

–Tom Riley

Glorious Association

Glorious Association

How glorious is our association!
You’ve thought of something else for me to do.
How dare I savor duty’s sweet cessation?
How glorious is our association!
Just knowing you means boundless complication.
I yawn – but then receive another cue.
How glorious is our association!
You’ve thought of something else for me to do.

–Tom Riley

Sanity Sonnet

Sanity Sonnet

(for Bernie Gurley)

Even in a palace, life may be lived well.
So spake the Imperial Sage, wisest of men,
Marcus Aurelius.

–Matthew Arnold

The heavens raged. The ruler’s soul stayed still—
For what was sanity but peace of mind?
Against this peace vast forces stood aligned.
Effect upon the Emperor was nil.
He knew that only movements of the will
And judgments rashly made, to reason blind,
Could matter. Caesar was the role assigned—
But ἄνθρωπος the purpose to fulfill.
Deep in her cave, the Pythoness cried out.
Such madness was an unrepentant sign
That even gods will stomp their feet and shout,
That even gods get drunk on more than wine.
On his path, Marcus never had a doubt—
Though madness, well he knew, could be divine.

–Tom Riley

Drink the Kool-Aid

Drink the Kool-Aid

Why am I smiling in the face of death?
The Kool-Aid that I drank was spiked with booze!
I smell my own transcendence on my breath.
Why am I smiling in the face of death?
Life’s an addiction even worse than meth.
I’m getting clean real soon – and that’s good news!
Why am I smiling in the face of death?
The Kool-Aid that I drank was spiked with booze.

–Tom Riley