The following short NSFW poemblog is “God’s Covering for Her Dumbass Brother Cletus”, the actual truth behind the Gnostic tradition! Involving Texas. And Bluegrass. Player below (direct link).

God’s Covering for Her Dumbass Brother Cletus
By Alicia Goranson

God’s brother Cletus
Woke up from his hangover
Lit up a cig and said
“Give me the keys
Go take a nap and
You scootch that cute thang-over
Then when you’re out
I can do as I please.”

Cletus was known
For his bad predilection
Of bossing his sister
Since she was a kid
Humoring him
was nasty addiction
but he was still family,
So humor, she did.

Long long ago in the
age of the dinosaurs
Cletus woke up on a
Warm Texas day.
Drank up his 40 since
He was a wino, course
It weren’t a sin yet
So it was okay.

Cletus, a free god
within a free state
Unbuckled his trousers
To do as he wanted.
All was his playground
To praise and berate
Naked and happy
His body, he flaunted.

Over the hill were two
Tyranosauri
A-getting the busy
As dinosaurs do.
So Cletus got himself
Masturbatori,
“Ain’t nuttin’ in Heaven
Or Earth wrong with chyou.”

Wakka, he went, and
A-wakka they went
And a-wakka together
They wakked on the hill.
They wubbled and woozled
The ground on their fundament
Warbling Cletus,
He drained himself still.

But then he realized the
Tyranosauri
In Tyranosex
With their Tyranothighs
Coming together in
In Tyranoglory
Had Tyranerections
And they were both guys.

Putting his pants on
And running to heaven
Which still is in Texas
As all of you know
Cletus woke God up
Upon her new devon
And shaking her shoulder
He blurted out out slow.

“There’s nothing that’s wrong with me
Has to be wrong with them
Make it be wrong with them
Oh my God, please!
My ego can’t take it!
It’s easier to condemn
Tyranoqueeros
Than my own unease!”

God had been knowing
That this day was coming,
Since she was omnipotent
Also his kin
Asked him if he would be
Rather forthcoming
To tell her what else
That he wanted a sin.

From th’top of his head,
His kids didn’t honor him.
Covetting asses, he
Thought was a crime.
He didn’t like insulting
Pictures drawn of him
“Oh, and, uh, right
There was that other time…”

God took her pencil
And took out a blank sheet
And wrote down Commandments
One after the other
For everything Cletus
Had said he had wanked at
All to obscure
What aroused her poor brother.

Gnostics, we know, called
Cletus a total git
Didn’t we listen?
No, we were appalled.
But all of the bad dogma
God doesn’t mean it.
She’s covering Cletus’
Ass and that’s all.

The following short poemblog is “Howie the Not-So-Horny Hentai Monster”, the tale of a poor tentacle monster who’s working hard for the money. Player below (direct link).

Here’s the text so you can read along!

Howie the Not-So-Horny Hentai Monster
By Alicia Goranson

I’m Howie the Hentai Monster
And I’m just not into you as
You’ve too few holes for my tentacles
And you squeak like drowning shrew.

Your skeleton’s repulsive
And your skin has nasty taste.
And if I’m to understand it
You’ve an orifice for waste.

Remind which that is, please
Not the ones there in your face?
Right. Your eyes are placed quite funny
And your beak’s in a silly place.

Your body can’t change color
And your manners lack all tact.
I’ll squeeze you with my suckers
But you can’t sucker me back.

Your head has seaweed stuck there
Soaked in oils and foulest cream.
I tried to pull it off but
Then it only made you scream.

This act of reproduction
Is just murder on my spine.
If this’ for someone’s benefit
It surely isn’t mine.

We’re doing this on land, I see
You know that’s very queer.
I’m quite dextrous in water but
I spose I’ll just stay here.

The camera lights dry me out
And I hope we get this take
The director calls me “Bento”
And we both know he’s a fake.

I do possess a phallus
But it’s far too long for you.
The director says its too weird
And he’d know a thing or two.

I spose we have a good act
As my tentacles in you piston
But the only thing we share’s a
Closed circulatory system.

I suppose I’ll get my paycheck
If you’re who I’m s’posed to screw
But let’s get one thing clear here
Howie’s just not into you.

The following short poemblog is “Minority Report Revisited”, a short witty poetry-type thing with music. It is about a great new software to give you the edge in proving the legality of illegal actions to corrupt officials! Player below (direct link).

Here’s the text so you can read along!

Minority Report Revisited
By Alicia Goranson

In land of Mother Russia
Where each second is recorded
On cameras in every car
that catch the details sordid
We’re pleased to offer beta tests
for our new application
Available on iOS
And every other station
It monitors your video
And prepares it for Court
We’re pleased to give our software’s name
“Minority Report.”
It’s 3d engine and AI
have got the smarts we gave it.
It tweaks your camera’s video
Before it tries to save it.
A fruit cart here, a small box there
Changes enough in time.
Your car’s recorded video
Absolves you of all crime.
We want to give a little help
For those who need the clout
It’s purpose in the courts
Is to spread questioning and doubt.
To qualify for our beta
funds must be of no object
And then you’re free to go off
And find some naive suspect
And run them down or shoot them
And in court you’ll have a ball
Saying, “Oh no, judge and jury
It was not like that at all.”
They’ll show what’s on the cameras
From the street and suspect too
And then they’ll show yours, which doesn’t
Match, what else is there to do?
Plus we will discreetly transfer
Funds through backdoors, bonds, and wavers
To the case’s judges to ensure
They’ll find it in your favor.
We humbly serve the con-artists
and those who master lies.
Soon, none will trust recordings.
They’ll be left with just their eyes.