Chiraq PTSD Willies
by Gerard Sarnat
Lands of broken toys, Chi-town bricks weighed my Mosul wagon.
Poseur know-it-all putz sure The Kid Had It,
pussy wagon bulletproof spunk after spunk blasted
Teflon tainted by smart-aleck prig’s ruthless ambit.
Gelatinous abyss peaked this fraught jewfish’s
Mendelian mendacious, morally elastic squid’s
self-loathing golden rule hubris screwed-reamed-
creamed-blasphemed-extorted spaz cliques deemed unworthy.
Grifter betrayed shave-buttered girlfriends, forsook buddies
to settle scores, swapped out the whole shmeer
for flashier peacocks.
A pinhead shidiot jerkoff brimming with butthair conceit,
porked with delusions of stallion dicks, in the sack 13 hours,
splooging the other 12; pee-wee one-eyed Charley whetted ‘n
whacked choke-the-chicken skeet (ain’t strudel yanked on jammies).
My detrusor Miles Davis dance done, Pa grumbled Ma’s
Bedding a once friend’s gullible wife’s crippled life, good boy
tries to be bad, two-faced boy to be good. Never met Mom’s dad
— she said the cad shouldn’tv’e been told he was brainiac
and seeded moi’s arrogance – parents were right to be lurid.
Nearing my boneability crossroads, the less I comprehend, but
Gerard Sarnat has had family members in the Armed Forces, some of whom have shared their experiences with him. He is the author of four collections: HOMELESS CHRONICLES from Abraham to Burning Man (2010), Disputes (2012), 17s (2014), and Melting The Ice King (2016). He has built and staffed clinics for the marginalized, including many veterans, and been a CEO of healthcare organizations and Stanford Medical School professor. Married since 1969, he and his wife have three kids and three grandkids.