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Generally Recognized As Population Control

Karen Robiscoe dba Charron's Chatter

we’re It!

from fatted liver,
to corn-fed calf,

the Doppelganger of prodigal Son,

–we’re not the bad guys!

(and we’re not coming back)

due to irony barring access

to varied

Garden surrounding

our country’s “father”

who doesn’t grow GMO


–he only sells its fertilizer

in greener GRAS

hemming dirty

White House

survival of the phattest–

talking ‘bout my


the one they’re trying to put down



generously conferring

guinea pig state


–since tumors were discovered on lab rats, after all


not guinea pigs, and that’s

a whole different animal­­­.

The kind

cats kill-

a point they’d like buried

or at least supplanted–

like so many Company-owned GMO seeds,

16 hectares, and whaddya get

destined for

side effect growth


foe GRAS

–and generation of

controlled subjects…

Between Quiet–spells…

wolf_howling_silhoettewhere-wind howled,

and sky cracked wise

titter tattoo

of rain







onto glass the

where-death rattled





– unbolted –


Not that Juicy

Adam_Eve_happyIn the end,

there was the beginning

–well, mulligan, really,

since ends beget starts

as device of verse will demonstrate

exhibit number



(frustrating, yes? but let me finish)

where I was…


in this once infinite launch

aliens discovered earth, or for you

thumpers out there—God


who is alien, after all…


I mean, have you met the Man?

those multi-faceted eyes aren’t trick contacts, you know…

those webbed fingers aren’t dot coms, either,

and for sure, that green hue is—

well—typical to monsters, now isn’t it?


In this burgeoning,

Adam and Eve, and their pet monkey:


got a slew of new neighbors including a lighting expert dubbed


and the next thing you knew, folk were staying up til all hours…


crushing it the night long, and since day then blended into night,

Big Al created space—or for you

cloud gazers out there—sky

so as to have sommeres to put the Son…

(other Books got the timeline wrong)

Meantime, the minions and couple “most likely to” were getting tired

of water polo, and in the interest of sustaining the pool party a bit longer,

that Mayan relic created deck—

or for those ditch diggers among us

–dry land

calling in caterers, naturally, because swimming puts a fierce hunger

on you, now doesn’t it, as any water baby can attest,

and since there was no TV back then

–Internet either—

and festive atmosphere starting to pall,

the Hopi Cave drawing went reverse Noah on the place,

and the world became a Zoo—

of which we—

the rat race

were the smallest and worst part

–proving once and for all times

the best species don’t always win—

(this math clearly irrefutable, and incalculable til the evolution of calculators)

and in the end,

–of the beginning, which was the end initially, and therefore the beginning of something else–


urged Adam to go for it—

egged him on you might say, though Eve might not

the monkey Bubbles,

Thor, and alien minions, too,

and in this manner,

the term: hot monkey sex

was coined,

a long with

(or was it  before?)

Man “kind”.



Cereal_Cold_4changing the diet has amazing results–

why, just the simplest substitutions make all the difference!

Take, for example, my

daily intake…

foregoing my usual brekkie of

panick-cakes & agghhhs!!!

I chose surreal—a new one—instead,

and sure I made the cakes

but I let them congeal,

standing on teetering tippy toe to grab a

better choice

and yeah, I fell a couple of times reaching in that cabinet,

but at least I wasn’t running from precedent.

After a fulfilling bowl

of nutty bits of faith, and O shaped hope

I pollinated my Arrowhead with

bee-leaf—and maybe that’s sorta New Age

but what the hey.

It’s less lethal that way, and

the chia seeds I’d tried before had only served to make my rhetoric

visibly wild and woolly, and all health benefits aside—

f*ck that.

Then for lunch, well lunch,

I untwisted the corkscrew pasta that was my gut

(these days)

and tried bandages

~lots and lots of bandages~

to stop that infernal bleeding,

(heart problem)

washing it all down with a dose

of blood thinners

–trying to lighten up, you know, and be the light

that was dim some.

then for dinner,

it was Lamb.

Of course it was Lamb, and a side of

crucifix-erous veggies, ‘cause I know which side my

bread is buttered on


and maybe this sounds irreverent, but I’m

not changing for You.

Never have.




a niche you carve


that fits ya’ well,

a “do it” ‘don’t


-ya’ will,

soothe the savage



your brow unknits

a whit’ch—it will!

it’s choosable,

for you-able,

the usual–

–so doable

an act that’s irrefusable,

(it loops ya like old shoes’able)

it banishes the blues-able

the tack ya take–


this rote


will never fail,

a rite

that rings

a bell

that wails!

a swelling, knelling,

clap-like thunder

yes, ritual’a

a well-worn wonder….

Ghetto Spa

after Major meltdown,

the Principal problem

is General Chaos.

Figuring out 1 squared, Private setting, and convincing ducks to row, and

frankly, they’re not the best


Their wheelhouse is impersonating weeping bovine on Snap Chat

I’ve heard, and

the squeeze on Colonel Mustard never helps, ‘cause

then there’s Poupon everything.

(Grey areas, you know?)

Still another

Chief concern

is playing ketchup

–ever tried to improv vinegar?

(no way!)

It’s plain awkward if someone’s bought the Ranch, and that’s disregarding the obvious entirely:

You need a knife to make it go over well,

and it’s Buddha bitter, and that’s

with sour grapes dba



please imagine or perform pattycake gesture twixt chin & chest, and

insert appropriate punctuation & metric footies here


(I’ll wait)

I’ll…sew, but hint that parentheses might be in order.


check out those stiches you’re in, and good to go-go boot is we?

(not a shoddy shoe for metric foot in tatted sock)

H-a-a-l-l-l writey.

It’s the specter of respect!

(not Phil)


(boo, and bless me)

That’s the Crowning grace.

Pre Fixe


ex…it’s never

a good thing

it excludes.

(don’t let the door hitcha)

it excises.

(buzzkill like the Operation game)

it’s eternally


(that cheX out)

and nothing






not even




the universe

itself is a projection




–they say—

and they are so intelligent

(ain’t they just)

as only insiders

can be.

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