` Ygdrasil: A Journal of the Poetic Arts

YGDRASIL: A Journal of the Poetic Arts

March 2009

VOL XVII, Issue 3, Number 191

Editor: Klaus J. Gerken

Production Editor: Heather Ferguson

European Editor: Mois Benarroch

Contributing Editors: Michael Collings; Jack R. Wesdorp; Oswald Le Winter

Previous Associate Editors: Igal Koshevoy; Evan Light; Pedro Sena

ISSN 1480-6401





Jack R. Wesdorp


Where It Is
The Roustabout
The Church
A Medieval Morality Play
The Downside
On Dealing
What It Wants
The Crew
Josef Mengele's Stream of Consciousness
Skid Marks
The Beef
How It's Done
Christian Soldiers
How It Acts
Instruction Booklet
The Ghoul
Hurdy Gurdy
What It Gets
Heroin and Oil
Debriefing : Malta : 2013
Song of the Shepherd

   Thirty-One Degrees of Evil


Jack R. Wesdorp


Evil is easy.  It advertises itself with glittering promises.  Fatal if you're 
stupid enough to invite it home.  It leaves a signpost across the abyss to waylay 
your dreams.  Most of what you know about evil is wrong, perverted by the thing 
itself.  It is self-serving---so ask "who profits?"  It loves to behold itself 
but not in a mirror. Evil is a full tilt-boogie into self-absorption; mirrors 
are labyrinths to confuse.   It despises loving others---you may befriend it, 
but at your peril.   It is a lonely sort that claws at the moment but loses 
everything.  It doesn't tolerate competition, as like religions, corporations, 
and governments.  Hence be your own priest, ignore advertisers, and don't join 
flag wavers.  The iconography of evil: tilted swastika, to the left, black on 
red, inverted pentagram, goatguy with a torch, upsidedown cross, broken! cross, 
chained naked people, skull and bones, zyklonB, treblinka, suicide bombers, 
bloody dripping axe, vlad dracul, belsen, bible, borgia, beelzeblub honking 
flies, oil tankers, and armageddon.  It's pitched by the pentagon, vatican, 
wall street, and hollywood.  A most attractive emphatic magnetic alluring 
fascinating compelling hoodoo for the kids, like violent video games, destroy 
something get rewarded.  Ghetto scenes.  Executions.  Kill that; feel good.  
Menacing music; staccato industrial noise.  Dead boys.  Madness.  Enjoy. 

Where It Is ~~~~~~~~~~~ All that bat-slime leather-wing is vatican salami caterwauling pity-sing at bedtime by your mommie. Evil wears a household coat, it rides among your neighbors, church and state for which you vote, in the works where you labor, and at the school with your kids insidious allegiance, pledge the flag, do as you're bid, screw-speak, sieg heil dagger dance, nor do you have to hunt it since it's hidden right up front.
The Roustabout ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Missus Yeti likes bananas so I allus includes a bunch, the trolls gets apple brown betty, hoodoo don't care just so's it crunch, flapwing favor bull-baked in bricks, medusa crave japanese mice, hizzonner he get naked chicks 'n his pussy better be nice or he scorching my bonny ass, mister pope he eat cardinal before he bejeezusboo mass, an' the knackwurst crowd gorillas s'farting sauerkraut last of all.
The Church ~~~~~~~~~~~ We own the only god the rest of you go die ocean desert garden we also own the sky forest fields and flowers all the planets and stars the universe is ours and yeah we hallow war.
Croesus ~~~~~~~ Who controls the mint winds up with the most: roast ox for dinner, mighty army host, pillage, priest, and pox wholesale by your pen, lightning aftershocks and the souls of men.
A Medieval Morality Play ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The earl was a horny sort who liked to hunt girls for sport, run 'em through the woods at night, "frightened pussy's always tight," he used to brag after snoot, but the guy who shines his boots took exception to the show, waited out there with a bow, shot his lordship in the balls, now he can't get lewd at all, yes, there's a moral, mister, don't be rude to my sister.
Evol ~~~~ Suppose the pentagon was where black magick thrived, where sacrifice was done and criminals connived, suppose the emperor on his atomic throne bade his goons to horror your ears with awesome drone, suppose that only he could ply your TV show with folderol knee jerk no kid you can't say no because you gotta work to pay for that TV and you ain't getting free.
Braggadoccio ~~~~~~~~~~~~ My moustache is bigger than any other man's and my girlfriend's figger makes god cream in his pants. We sneer at your steeple and your egg-sucking god. We hear you're fucking sheep with proxy cattle prods. The war went on for years, a lotta body bags, then diminishing cheers, now nobody fucking brags.
Consequence ~~~~~~~~~~~ If you lie to us once we won't trust you again; if you lie to your sons they'll become worthless men; but lie to your daughters they'll despise you for life, lies are poisoned waters, and they'll be hateful wives.
The Downside ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Satan leads a lonely life, no chick wants to be his wife, toads and trolls get old real quick, ain't no place to stick his dick except in fancy hookers who can party but don't cook. Sure, there's always restaurants but it's meatloaf that he wants, like what momma used to make chocolate frosted angel cake made by a common wendy, please dear god damn just a friend.
On Dealing ~~~~~~~~~~ It is best to win without fighting. Try to get it voodoo in writing, if signed in blood so much the better, and it should adhere to the letter of the law so you can't be fingered, don't leave no loose amounts lingering, after that you kill your accountants and those stupid goons prancing about, oh, and your mistress without a glance.
What It Wants ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Crank out ten a dozen kids. sell 'em into slavery with the penny infantry or some enemy navy. Gent's always looking for swords to service braided bonnets, at least they gets on the board with other pawns and fodder. It's your turn to hack off heads, burn a village rape 'n rut, if you're lucky you'll get fed too slack-jawed to escape but more likely dead in a ditch. Maybe one comes back real rich.
The Crew ~~~~~~~~ Now that we're all dead I'm allowed to speak. Money it's been said, that the bastard reeks of murderous clothes, one and all you stare, everybody "knows" but you weren't there privy to the real freezing skinny-dip, and you didn't kneel at the crippled rail before diving in. How frail we all are, some gun, some with gin. Conjecture's rampant what went down below, who issued commands, but I have to owe the breast sits queasy, stinks of bitter bile, we rest uneasy, even now there's vile biographic eyes crawling in our guts, still lightolling lies for arrogant sluts.
Josef Mengele's Stream of Consciousness ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ .trouble at the club I'll have to drive marvelous time it's gonna get worse bugs release from their rubbish heap lives get a bit of use out of them first haircut gotta whet my surgeon's knives unparalleled opportunity further medicine and I suppose I can pop 'em with impunity let's try some nice tuberculosis all kinds of trauma festering wounds there's a war on we gotta winnit rattus pestilent need to eat soon more atropine and get me some twins!
Silhouette ~~~~~~~~~~ The poor always fall, they're the first to die forced against a wall and they don't know why. Their bodies are cheap, the world doesn't care when they're piled in heaps of mud, bones, and hair. Go to Treblinka or Nagasaki, the stink lingers there stark on a brick wall.
Vasahpalpuli ~~~~~~~~~~~~ He disfigure me. No one else will want. Since I look like pig I can only grunt. If you need clothes wash put in box by door, boot black I do those, if you like leave more. Don't try talk to me, goddamn off my cunt, I'm not free to fuck, I can only grunt.
Fodder ~~~~~ Malta is a holding pen for a million homeless men. They're the tough ones that made it, there they're culled, bent, and graded, shunted into concrete dorms, eventually uniforms set to murder jerks a while, yessir boy work at your bile on the master's freight yard farm, if you rate---some basic arms so you can throw yourself at the final crowbait battle.
Bugs ~~~~ Harley size dragonflies, big boxcar bumble bees, tarantula spiders, trigger murderous fleas, slant scorpion hornets, gook carnivorous ants, crucified corpse beetles, scum cannibal mantids, swarming hot maggot meat, mortuary dung mites, midges, mayhem choppers, nazi bung hole rotten demented front line mobs, wanton religious rites and did I mention wasps?
Skid Marks ~~~~~~~~~~ Dealy plaza window trick: impossible gun. Lost bridge at Chappaquiddick: needle murder done. Boeing hits big pentagon: bogus explosion. OJ bitter country con: courtroom erosion. Styrofoam illegal law: melanoma up. Crazy angus down your craw: coma in your cup. Jews abandon gaza strip: Jerusalem toast. Vatican claw tightens grip: Mecca muslim roast. Mars mission immense success: NASA mining stones. Pope blesses Saturn bucket: Asteroid hits Rome. Kreezus lands on white house roof: prez has heart attack. Grand designer drug goes poof: pest bug genome cracked. Chinese bird flu plague in west: human cloning real. Freezer goo safe, all the rest on banana peel.
Sheesh ~~~~~~ Too much "news" is bad for you. It'll make you nuts. It's about horrific hoods and the latest sluts. Don't you ever wonder why "news" is always bad? Could it be reporters lie, that your head's been had? Politics and advertise, garbage down your craw, rotten bigot maggot flies and you'll eat it raw.
The Beef ~~~~~~~~ How much mad cow is there now and how much will you allow? How many people will croak before beef goes up in smoke? How long have you assholes known about feedlot swill and bone? And this is the part I hate, burgers taste greasy and great.
How It's Done ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Finagle ground zero, manufacture heroes, shoot down flight 93, plant some bogus debris on the pentagon lawn, run shock and awe at dawn, supply vast munitions, fuel tribal attrition, Baghdad mosques?---bashed to ruin, fashionable funerals for all our kids that died, we've got god on our side it's their iniquity, endow the troops with pride and tout it on TV.
Christian Soldiers ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You can always buy 'em in places like the Bronx, and you can lie to 'em, you're wasted in the ranks, we'll make you a sergeant, great meds and better kink, then you paint a target in camouflage red ink and ship him to iraq or some damn foreign shore to rip rape splatter hack onwards! oxymoron.
Ovalis ~~~~~~ Cowards taunt from the high ground. They issue faceless orders from behind massive locked doors. Cowards kill from a distance. They never meet on the field to display their skill with steel. A coward wants your children. Kids are easy to enslave, just tell 'em how brave they are. Our captain is a coward. You can recognize his shit by his perfidious eyes.
How It Acts ~~~~~~~~~~~ Evil is a parasite that kills its host but not quite, gets you haggard on your knees better for the agony, feeds on fear, uncertainty, you'll be hurt again, my dear, greedy with a friendly hand furtive sadist on demand, men are always idiots apple pie mom's butter grits paradise oh thank you peace, giddy for the promised feast in the sacrosanct precinct, angel cake but only crumbs and then the stinking beast comes.
Society ~~~~~~~ I don't want your money, I hate how you got it pushing steel, dope, and guns. I hope you choke on it. I won't attend your bash. I don't get huggy bear with folks of high fashion--- drug yourself paralyzed. Nor at your funeral. Your epitaph should be: I dragged the world to ruin. Damn your iniquity.
Rallentandro ~~~~~~~~~~~~ My conscience is clear; I didn't go fight. While you were cheering the carnage that night I turned away sick and puked in the street. I won't be licking your boots or your meat, don't attend your mass, rally round your flag, wouldn't wipe my ass with that scummy rag, I won't even come to your trumpet taps you poor dumb rabble.
Zambee ~~~~~~ Auntie Dote killed my goat boiled its head now I'm dead gotta walk when she talk gotta go where she know bring her snake bring her stake bring her Pearl white mans girl all these thing zambee bring now I sleep under heap.
Flotsam ~~~~~~~ Don't look like much of a boat, held together by netting and salvaged styrofoam floats, some refugee soul I bet driven by hunger and scourge, wonder how long he was out? Didn't lack for courage, him, probably a devout man trusting to god and swimming as only dying men can, he made shore I like to think, maybe scrounged a dumpster meal, working fleabag bar room sinks or his shoulder to a wheel. If you sell your ass off, boy, you can booger out the spa but don't you dare annoy us. welcome to amerika.
Instruction Booklet ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Don't leave this lying out. Learn their language and lore, straight arrow eagle scouts. Infiltrate the borders. Start a forest fire, burn the infidel nest, poison their food supply with fulminating pest. Spread more cancer sickness among their prostitutes; schools are simple pickings for hostages and loot. Rent with fictitious names, leave no computer tracks, always go down flaming and goddamn don't look back.
Jingle (ca. 2013) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bud for breakfast Mecca or bust Bloody shekels In god we trust.
Menu ~~~~ Let's do jew boy barbeque turkey fries with fission chips might as well stuff Mecca too you guys quit the gaza strip steak tartare buffet no eggs pig fat deviled bullet dip throw some crumbs to the beggars save the mutant cow for last and roll out those killer kegs dumb gooks always get blasted ratpack poison mumble brew happy meals better garble you get mac-free toys with that.
The Ghoul ~~~~~~~~~ Here little girl, want some candy? Pretty plum curls gimme your hand come home with me this way don't scream butter gum drops chocolate ice cream in the cellar rip your clothes dear shut up he tell'r hang you up here give 'r a whack with 'is poker watch'm fucking pussy done croaked rip hacksaw rend humming a tune nice gentleman he'll be back soon.
Four! (sic) ~~~~~~~~~~~ The emperor bade: Lech be rotten, bring me a big gang of goons with guns to stomp my enemies into snot, bring on your finest daughters and sons to attend at my table and bed, bring me my bankers and ad campaigns so I can splatter the world with red white black and blue sheep shorter on brains, bring on the beer with alkaloid dope so I can keep them strung out on fear, hang up that fucking catholic pope, make sure the rabble knows priests are queer, make the idiot press go away, oh, and bring me some butt naked slut to suck my cock, I've had a hard day.
Blasphemy ~~~~~~~~~ Vaporize that slum drop two atom bombs do it so depraved that even the graves are shunned by their kids as disgusting shit where evil revels with rotten devils garbage crows scrabble on hot naked slag make a no man's land for roaches and ants topple the steeples so that no people can go there again god dammit amen.
Hurdy Gurdy ~~~~~~~~~~~ Dey were roastin a nun's thigh on a spit through the femur, I know'dit cause I seen 'er with an arrow through 'er eye. Dey laid er out like long pig and cut 'er up with hack saws, her brains they ate gakkin raw but the leg they served with figs.
What It Gets ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Biggest budget in the world, words like judgment and colored, convenient handles like AIDS, bulldozers---don't need no spades, Treblinka, Belsen, Auschwitz, monsanto seed, bacon bits, bitter almond cyanide, pope and president they lied, double whopper coke and fries, malathion butterflies, fucking with the genome jerk, pigs in uniform at work herding sordid ruin-spell smiles burned on big-roar funeral piles then the forest fell silent.
Moloch ~~~~~~ Yeah. You bred a country of killers. You used TV and video games, you crammed them full of crap to the gills and forced them to face the furnace flames. Now you tell us to cast our child in so you can sate your ravenous glut, you sell the sales pitch that we can win over them slopehead slavering sluts. And at no time did you ever think that when the burning aeon is done just maybe you led us to the brink of a hungering that can't be won. I offer thee this banquet of dung and blood; I expect you'll choke on it.
Schamael ~~~~~~~~ There's no shortage of bodies most of 'em stupid kids who do the ugly jobs like good little troops. Piss poor slum rats ain't got no shoes or stuff to get except skag, some rotten blow, garbage rags and debt. They'll pay it off with slaughter, there's plenty of guns, faceless men, poisoned water and no place to run. If they make it to the wall where Goliath raves all they'll taste is rue and gall shoved in shallow graves. And you who bade them worship bloated flag and bell I'll rip your clotted throat out monsters rot in hell.
Heroin and Oil ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The stink of rotting flesh sticks to you, sir; the blood on your hands will not wash away. Every soldier you sent to his death, sir, shall bear witness against you, and you'll pay with your soul for all those dead children, sir, each will point a cold finger at your heart in the balance scale of things on earth, sir, and in that reckoning you'll stand apart, you'll not be with us, you'll be cast out, sir, we'll erase your memory from our scroll, we will salt your mind with forgetting, sir, all of us will turn away in horror, and bitter bile shall be thy harvest.sir.
Debriefing : Malta : 2013 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A week later there were stenches, we buried 'em in long trenches, stuck a holy altar on top to fuck with the remember mob, thoroughly looted the treasure burgled all that's pleasurable, left a lot of lethal laughter that will maim 'em ever after, take 'em aeons to wash that stink yessir mission completed (clink).
Song of the Shepherd ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Atom came to town with some taint. Then there was a sound. Now there ain't. Just dim indigo blurred mirage, where orphans go on pilgrimage. I went walking there only once, and I only dared with some nuns who remember when what we had. I won't go again. It's that bad.
Alcedama ~~~~~~~~ You can smell the heat of atomic feet that passed here one moon sowing buried ruin; they salted this land with arsenic sand, perfidious pox inside hollow rocks, to scatter their tears for ten thousand years; bent indigo glare, a blighted place where strangers fear to tread, even ghosts are dead and there ain't no end.
Gaza ~~~~ The land lay empty. Maybe pestilence had scattered its men and killed all the rest. Still, it seemed fertile phosphorescent red, goodly garden dirt worth a settlement. We built near the spook on a mound of brick waiting to lookit if the goat got sick. Then I found some bookes nobody can rede with pixures of wise impossible breed birds and other lies on a tattered page pinned up in a hut. Tell me, dead stranger, what are butterflies?


Thirty-One Degrees of Evil

Sure, you can be bad,
a decadent cad,
and then there's nasty
like a mean bastard,
scandalously vile
with a certain style,
profligate courant
or just plain wanton,
gainfully debauched
with pecker and scotch,
reckless danger to
children and strangers,
criminal intent,
despicably bent,
corruption of head,
body, breast, and bed,
dissipated lives,
malevolent wives,
degenerate beast,
dissolute at least
with a pinch of loath,
wicked, sin, they're both
high on the curse list,
appallingly pissed---
there's a first-class one,
iniquitous fun,
horrifying pix,
unspeakably sick
grave-robbing chortle,
and my favorite:
morally depraved.



All poems (c) copyright 2009 by Jack R. Wesdorp.


All poems copyrighted by their respective authors. Any reproduction of
these poems, without the express written permission of the authors, is

YGDRASIL: A Journal of the Poetic Arts - Copyright (c) 1993 - 2009 by 
Klaus J. Gerken.

The official version of this magazine is available on Ygdrasil's 
World-Wide Web site http://users.synapse.net/~kgerken.  No other 
version shall be deemed "authorized" unless downloaded from there. 
Distribution is allowed and encouraged as long as the issue is unchanged.


  * Klaus Gerken, Chief Editor - for general messages and ASCII text
  submissions: kgerken@synapse.net