Three Poems by Doug Draime

 Buck The Fuck Up:
Surf Reflection

There is a scene in Planet of The Apes,
where the Statue of Liberty’s
huge head is decapitated and
all fucked-up and half imbedded
in the sand,

as the surf of the Atlantic
is gently splashing against
the enormous rocks and steel girders
and concrete destruction of
New York City, that is
spewed willy-nilly all along the shore.

Charlton Heston, mis-casted, looking
bewildered without the NRA
and a rifle, comes wandering down the
beach looking for the blood
of those responsible. Heston’s agent,

if he was ever honest with the man,
could have told him, that he (Heston)
and those who think like him
were responsible, are responsible.

But everyone has a starring role in their own movie,
and we all gotta play our part with or, unfortunately,
without, honest agents, or other
greedy, back stabbing assholes.


3:26 P.M.
for Johnny Cocktails
The sunlight
flashes in

when the
double doors

swing open
like a rotating

beacon into
a furrow tomb.

Over At Facebook
The self-proclaimed
outlaw poets
are all over at
snuggling up and
sharing photos
of their kids and pets,

exchanging recipes,
and juicy tidbits
of their
and pseudo-non-
conformist lifestyles.

Which goes to
prove that even the
most superficial
among us, have not
lost the basic need
to communicate
with like-minded

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