Evil's Lair:

Someday,
Not far away,
I shall take out my old shotgun and kill and kill and kill.
Come here, swan-boy!
I'll pump some lead into Zeus, too!
Mythological punk!
Loser! Loser!

Cite works?
It hurts!
I'll plagiarize
Until the skies
Fall and crush me like a beetle under a bikes front wheel.
Come hither, prideful authors and poets!"
I don't want your words, just your heads!

At glance
My chance!
Bang! You're dead, friend!
Shot you in the head, friend!
I'm not bereft,
I've still got some shells left.
I'm a'killing poems, baby!
THE END

Further Reflections Upon the Anti-Poem
by Evil Doug

I look at life
It is not a short spring day,
Nor a briefly blooming rosebud.
Nor is love a flower.
Agony, Agony!
Like waiting for slow, slow maple syrup.
Life is so slow, But that's what makes Death so sweet!

I used to read.
Those cute little books with bunnies.
Oh, they were all just lies!
Lies, Lies, Lies, Lies!
Bring me a bunny and I'll eat it's brain!
There is no cute!
Long lives, no love, no happiness.

Poems are not like sweet honey.
Nor are books boats.
If only it were so.
I'd torpedo the boat,
And it would sink in blood and red honey!
And burn the trees in the winter's forest.
Ice and then fire; burn, baby, burn!

Hey, who's that over there?
Get away from my woods!
Bang! Gotcha pal!
Bang! Your horse too!
Add kerosene and a tiger,
Burn bright, tiger boy, burn.
You were built in a factory!

Hey, check it out! A wall!
Break it! Break it!
Bash the two neighbors good!
Throw the rocks down on them!
Mend it, punks! Mend that wall.
C'Mon boys! Mend it good!
You ain't fit to do repair work!

Death is real proud, baby!
Guess what athlete, you're dead!
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead!
Fame ain't gonna do you any good, boy!
You're dead!
Anti-poem,
As Evil as I want to be!
THE END

Song to the Beautiful River
by Evil Doug

O' Magnificent River-
May your powerful water devils,
Come forth and enslave the world.
THE END

The Chef
by Evil Doug

As I travelled through the library in my bus, a large chef sprang from behind a stack of books and obstucted my path. He was large and antlerless. He bellowed a loud chef-call and strode back into the dense books. he left a map, however. A magical map with colors and words it was. I used this magical map to suffocate the life out of the old people on the back of the bus.
THE END

My Birthday
by Evil Doug

Today is my birthday.
No, Tuesday is.
Or is it Wednesday.
Is my toast done yet?

My parents failed
To send a card to me.
Wait, they died last year
On a Tuesday; or Wednesday.

I hate birthdays.
So boring. Why?
I was born today!
At least I think.

Or do I die today?
It's Tuesday. Why
Are they staring
Down at me so?

It's dark early.
Where did the light go.
It's daytime on Tuesday morning.
Or is it Wednesday's dusk.
THE END

Fuzzy
by Evil Doug

When I was about five, I had a rabbit. This rabbit was given to me by my aunt. After a week, the rabbit had babies. I named them all; Waldo, Henry, Charlie, and Fuzzy. Unfortunately, the mother rabbit died and thus three of the orphaned rabbits starved to death. But I was able to save Fuzzy from this fate. I fed him from a bottle and kept him with me all of the time. When I returned home from school each day, I would run to his cage, take him out, and carry him with me around the house. One day, my friend came over. He looked at me and said, "Rabbits are stupid!" So I put my hand over Fuzzy's head and with a twist he was no more. It's OK though, society is my true friend. And besides, image is important.....
THE END