Gerard Sarnat
i. Terrorists Were Our Time’s Prime Graffiti Artists Before Banksy Howled.
Her eyeball plucked out with a spoon, score one * on our CIA torturer’s balaclava.
For that aloof wife of an important al Qaeda leader, cracking up seems a godsend.
Just fanatics and hum of some fridge which contains half-drunk flat diet Dr. Peppers
— any consort with children would give up Hubby for a Camel, perhaps two smokes –
she finally confesses blurting out, OBL’s #2 Ayman Zawahiri’s really Allen Ginsberg
in disguise may his corpse’s faked death rest in peace! Queer Jew-dog ex-ad man’s
gray flannel suit is exactly what jihadi Sheik Osama needed when he goes on TV.
Feel free to substitute “smiley” for the emoji.
ii.. Ex-Hassid’s Chimeric Ginsbergoid Brooklyn
Tunnel of weirdnesses some like my once leontine cousin
enter while other serpent-tailed imps
exit — dropping tiny kazoos in shofars,
they form their new old-fangled klezmer band of golems.