Power Through: Poems for Manly Men
By a Manly Man

By Zanzibar “Buck Buck” McFate

More, more and even more manly poems about masculine matters: Nazi rock a Brazilian Brothel Public Executions Pluto (the planet, not the dog) Demon Love Animal Hunger Leather Corsets Pork Chop Juice Swine Sloppin' Prostate Exams Panties The House of Pain Scrotum Winchester .44 Styptic A Can Opener Gristle Death Licorice Lingerie Irish Setters Motorbikes Sperm and Bodie-Bo-Do-Hodie-Hey-lots more. Lots.

"This stuff is smooth. It's Jack on ice and twice as nice."
-Some guy in a bar
Missoula, Montana

"I've read a lot of poetry, and this is arresting."
-Cop on the beat
Anytown, U.S.A.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 31, 2007
• ISBN: 9780595882335

Zanzibar “Buck Buck” McFate

Zanzibar ?Buck, Buck? McFate has battled a giant otter. He has the strength of 10 men, X-ray eyes, and the fingers of a concert pianist. More important, he has what it takes to keep one woman satisfied and, even more important, coming back for more. McFate has lived in such exotic places as Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and New Jersey. Hoping that the deep puncture wounds start healing soon, he now lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.

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Copyright © 2007 by Zanzibar Buck Buck McFate

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Virtus Semper Viridis

Goodness will find the little boy.

It always has. It always will.

—Cormac McCarthy

The Road

Contents

-er

CATACOMBS

POSEURS

BODIE-BO-DO-HODIE-HEY!

EXECUTIONS

CLYDE ‘N’ PLOOT

THEN I DO!

I GOT HEART PAIN

HAVING FAILED

ENVY

CONCEIT

I HAVE A BIBLE

SPREAD THE GOSPEL

PROSTATE EXAM

HOW PAINTBRUSHES ARE LIKE PANTIES

SWIMMER

SOMETIMES I TRY

CHOCOLATE BOX

SCROTUNDRUM

BOXING

HANDLER

RHYMER

VANITY PLATE

THREE LIMERICKS

THE CHALLENGE

THE SERMON

REPRIEVE

THE SWEET (STING OF) LIFE

EIGHT TABLESPOONS

A PROMINENT DAIRY AIR

IT’S HARD TO SAY

VIRGINIA HAM

CORRECTING ELAINE

REMINDER

THE VERY THOUGHT OF LOSING ISHATEFUL

LIKE TIGERS AFTER PANCAKES

OHMYLOVE

I AM ON MARS

-er

-er Propell I into sauntered a

Sliced all me way to the Parsnippany

(fay, Pravor me a bit and so say it it with rhymes a.)

Ten thoured hunsand thru-see azzip cakepan me’s

And to the Parrens Bine of Nouth sJ

Pist Pascataway, nwod to obileM Bay

To south San east Jose of Alabam

a! Lord, was I cut panstrarent thin

loating drifty F pon ze hyr air’s ‘s fairju

Scant as a y French jellyooh—fish’s under la theres

put back to be again together Never

Win some of me slipped through a dow

in a pan landed and was countryfied

r One taste me and you’d like to of a died

More of me, indingclu a liver of sliver and a piece of knee

Drifted sound cartilage less less ly ly to the Cabirbean Sea

Whereapairl of obsters named M M oe and arie ate me dainty

With fisdigured wripshecked orphan out-your-eyes-cry her balmintsea grasstea.

The rest, I guess, spun counterantigraviclockesiw

And oh wirled flyign saucre styel throuhg the No sphere

Past ars, the Masteroid bel t,and frozeon peNtune’s ethanem sniat nuom

It’s a a shme that I’m s p r e a d t h i n

But tha t’s the kind of shapes I’m in—

dewercS.

CATACOMBS

Tentacles, tin men, and lasses in tight T’s—

All these and more by tempting tease:

      I walk in vast candlelit corridors of the past

         —Walls sweat memories interred—

      Preposterous catacomb concatenations

      Bones, selves on shelves unglued.

This is where Nazis rocked.

Listen to cavern echoes of Nazi rock.

Ya! Boots-a-go-go!

God has lost! Los! Los! Los!

Gottlos! Gottlos! Gottlos! Go!

Doris Day licks the shine off der Führer’s buttery tapping toes.

Dinah Shore pogos. Pat Boone’s a’mosh.

The Babe’s goosestepping ‘round third,

And me? I’m eating Cassius Clay’s whole smokin’ tongue

On a cold slab of chewy Jewy rye.

Wasted, I use the toilet backwards.

I am feeling an overwhelming lassitude.

(Maybe it’s ‘cuz the lass got nude.)

Cannibalism? It’s in. It’s here to stay.

I’m telling you, my friend, it’s the way I play.

      What can you prove with your point?

      What do you gain by sticking it

      In, in,