Go back

                                                                                                Max Prum



The Trial of Rodan

Your Honor,
Rodan requests permission to approach the bench
judiciously granted
and the judge crushed
crunchy under claw.

Throwing his book
absolutely ineffective
to foil that creature
in this gruesome scene.

Such slaughter cites
Mcbeal vs Mothra 2001
Part II, IV and twelve
articles A, Q and E
of the monster doctrine.

Who owns the movie rights?
To be duly decided
dealt with in court.

So we suppose sanely
humanityís only hope
Rodan will request council
not represent
his monstrous
self himself.



Beer O'clock

Four feet deep and three feet wide
straight down in ornery earth
or winters frost will pop the post
indict the boss in shitty work
starve sentence for carpenters.

Josh youíre the littlest lightest
stick yourself down there
grab that rock and Iíll hold
tight to your ankles be glad;

Itís past noon and the all the
shade locked up in the holes
where we canít get it for all
our scrapings with tool poles.

Thatís the last one, the final
stab in the flesh of our city.
Mercifully no more rocks
the time now so sweet pretty.

Itís beer oíclock boys! hell yeah
What have we got?
Some George some Abe a little Tom
just enough fathers for Pabst and pot.

In the backyard weíll taste the
shade dragged up from those
fucking holes to anoint sore
bodies bleating to intoxication.



Springtime for Mothra

I am perpetually panicked.
I am horribly horrified.
I am frenzied frightened.
Scared Shitless,
running as fast as I can
scrambling in apocalypse
becoming more and more
annoyed at my failure
to die a dozen painful deaths.

I am tormented by the ambiguous.

I fear what I am told to fear
and I fear the fact that I am told to fear.

I am afraid of dieing and I fear
not dieing well.

I am terrorized by terrorists
and terrified that when we are clean out of terrorists
I will be next.

I fear endless sobriety, I fear
what these drugs may do to me

I am afraid to write, I fear
I am almost out of paper.

I fear being friendless and I fear
my friends.

I fear the corporation but fortunately
Pfizer sells a remedy
thank god.

I am afraid I may never again get laid
and I fear disease and babies
I imagine an infant army of diseased baby zombies.

I fear Mothra and I fear
that now is springtime for Mothra.

I fear the government and I fear
that now is springtime of The Man.

I am told that this is all very normal,
I fear this may be true.



                                                                                                © Max Prum

triple rule

Loch Raven Review Winter 2005 — Vol. I, No. 2
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