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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... Down in the Dirt magazine (v101) (the December 2011 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:						This writing also appears in this 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback “Perfectly Imperfect” Order this 6" x 9" ISBN# book:

Order this writing in the book Bleeding Heart Cadaver (a Down in the Dirt collection book)		get the 320 page September-December 2011 Down in the Dirt magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

enjoy this Fritz Hamilton writing in the 6" x 9" 2012 ISBN# paperback Open Wounds (the Fritz Hamilton poetry & short prose book)		Enjoy this writing in a 6" x 9" perfect-bound paperback ISBN# book! Click on the cover or any linked text for the book Open Wounds.

The phone rings, I put it to my ear

Fritz Hamilton

The phone rings, I put it to my ear/ out
creeps Beelzebub/ he eats my wax & climbs
into my brain/ all the dead matter bothers

him/ he stabs it with his fork/ it tastes like pork/ he
smokes it & it’s ham & bacon/ he cracks my
egghead, & it drips out rotten with an awful

stench that drives Beelzebub back to Hell/ I
follow him to apologize for the smell/ on the way
down, I’m blocked by the serpent making

free with Eve/ from her womb drops Jesoo making
an ass of the virgin birth, just like contradictions in the
Gospel truths if there are any, like God is love, but

tell it to the Babylonians as they massacre
the Jews or the Jews as they slaughter the Babylonians/ if
that’s love, so were the Nazis lovers when they

created the Holocaust, but what’s a cross if you
can’t twist it, & what’s a crucifixion if you can’t use
the gas chambers & the ovens?/ &

what’s Joe McCarthy & Karl Rove & the
Republican Party goose stepping us to the charnel
house in the name of spiritual cleansing?/ it

never changes except in style & degree/ it’s
man at his very best, & when Patton exposed
what was happening in the camps &

allowed the inmates to tear up the Nazi guards, he
was being Biblical, & with any justice we’d all
borrow our piece of rope from Judas, but

there is no justice, & we’re free to kill our
neighbor & rob him of everything in the
name of love, cause we’re the

army of greed & selfishness, &
a spade always trumps a heart until
the hearts are crushed &

stuffed with money, honey, &
the biscuits are all poisoned so
eat ‘em up, sweetheart, &

CELEBRATE your
bones ...

!

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