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Stuff Happens
Stuff Happens
Stuff Happens
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Stuff Happens

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This is not Percy Dovetonsilis.

This is Dennis Doph and this is the most roughedged seriously male SPLATTER thats been thrown on a printed page.

This is two volumes (far too much material for one) covering such diverse subjects as: the fetishism of Jesus, the career arc of John Gielgud, sperm, sperm, sperm, sperm, how I got a Bristish fag fired from Macys because he told me I should be shot at sunrise, George W. Bush and his boy and girlfriends as nauseam, one memorable enema, an alternate take on THE WIZARD OF OZ, and Jimmy Stewarts Dick.

Enjoy, recover, enjoy, recover, enjoy. Sort of like sex (rough sex) but with a book in your hand rather than the usual thing.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateAug 11, 2004
ISBN9781465329349
Stuff Happens
Author

Dennis Doph

Now retired, DENNIS DOPH was a twenty-year wordsmith with a major studio in Los Angeles. His previously published works include Instead of Solitaire, Stuff Happens, Psycho Boulevard, and Beyond Beyond. He currently lives in California.

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    Book preview

    Stuff Happens - Dennis Doph

    Copyright © 2004 by DENNIS DOPH.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or

    transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,

    including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage

    and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the

    copyright owner.

    This book was printed in the United States of America.

    To order additional copies of this book, contact:

    Xlibris Corporation

    1-888-795-4274

    www.Xlibris.com

    Orders@Xlibris.com

    24090

    Contents

    Preface

    INSTEAD OF PATIENCE

    VANISHING POINT

    THREE JESUSES

    A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

    ENRON! ENRON!

    STUFF HAPPENS

    KISS ME & SAY YOU’LL UNDERSTAND

    PROUD TO BE AMERICAN

    MAX ATTAX

    WON’T YOU BE MY TEITELBAUM?

    JOHNNY G

    TWO SPERM

    MIRANDA RIGHTS

    RHINO HORN

    DID YOU EVER SEE A STEAM WALKING? (i did)

    THE CHRISTMAS I GAVE TO HER

    CHOLO TIME

    CLARE ST CLARE

    FIFTEEN DENIER

    CLYDE NEUENSCHWANDER

    SYLVIA MARLENE

    WHEN BILLY AND SAMMY MET WELLA AND WALIDA

    MARY ANN LAMB

    MY DADDY JUST CARES FOR ME

    FOLLOW THE CHIEF

    ANDIE MARTT & BIG RED

    BINOMI NAXX

    MOCAMBO: MOM & I

    (PALINDROME)2002

    Tales of Infant Sexuality Part One THE RHINERS: BLESS THEIR COTTON PICKIN LITTLE HEARTS

    KATHLYN & CURT Infant Sexuality 2

    MOTHER’S ENEMA Infant Sexuality #3

    THE ABOMINATIONS

    FEATHERS

    A COUGH AND A SLAP

    COLLATERAL DAMAGE

    VAN

    FAUX MARILYN

    ALPHA TAU OH MEGA

    WANDA JANISSARY

    THE SPELL OF ITS CALL

    HOLD DOWN THE HOME FRONT

    WHEN HE SAW WHAT I HAD TO OFFER

    HOW HAIRY IS MY LANDLORD

    INDIAN

    OVERTAKEN BY CHRIST

    MEERKAT

    DEAR GOD SAVE US FROM THE PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE IN YOU*

    DOROTHY LEFT KANSAS

    LAFF IT UP

    WRECKING CREW

    JIMMY STEWART’S DICK

    AS A WIFE HAS A HUSBAND A WIFE HAS AN UNCLE: A PLAY

    TRAJECTORY

    Preface

    Many of the poems in this volume were initially published on the internet in volumes entited Instead of Patience and Beyond the Forest. I realized after a semi savvy analysis of my available audience that fully half of the poems in both of those volumes contained supermale sexual material that would, frankly, fry the hackles on your Aunt Fanny.

    Not that I am any kind of suckup to dear Aunt Fanny, but the other half of the semi savvy analysis tells me that the audience for these mostly satirical and very political poems now encompassed in this volume, Stuff Happens, would not exactly be entranced by my endless discursions on my libido and my plumbing.

    Those of you who are into the kind of very male heat I consciously throw off will not be disappointed in the contents of this volume, which I wholeheartedly encourage you to pursue. If uninhibited rocks-off poetry is your meat I suggest the companion volume aka Wagenblatz is the one to look for.

    INSTEAD OF PATIENCE

    We have had Instead of Solitaire.

    Solitaire is the game you play

    when you’re at odds, when you’re

    at a loss, when you’re alone.

       Solitaire is

    The game you play when you’re

    desperate. This is Instead of

    Patience. Patience is the game

    you play when you’re empowered.

       Patience is

    The cards you hold when your

    cards are the winning cards, the

    trump cards. Patience is a game

    for survivors. Solitaire is a game

       you play

    When you’re content to shrink

    away and drift into the mouse hole

    of regrets and bitter memories.

    Patience is the game you play

       when you have

    The Inside Straight that will sweep

    the table.

    Patience is the game you play when

    you’re strong enough and you

    can afford to wait till it’s your turn.

    VANISHING POINT

    They are out there. They are out

    there professing love but what that

    love entails is achieving the high

    moral ground that elevates the common

       from the mud

    Of the gutter, of creation itself.

    Once they have achieved that high

    moral ground anything is possible.

    They can cry Jesus and mean it,

       mean Him,

    Or their version of Him, which is

    not about you. It is about them.

    They are all busy pumping up the

    dew point of their significance.

       their little hands

    Are busy with the hot meat of

    a solid pump job, flailing away at

    those limp dicks, those invisible

    clitorii, their darling brains cannot

       conceive of

    An alternative reality where the brain

    supersedes the busy hand. Their sig

    nificance has risen to cloud cuckoo

    land where what is visible is invisible.

       this is significance

    Which is insignificant to the point

    of invisibility. At this vanishing point,

    your life is not your own. It is theirs.

    If you allow it.

    THREE JESUSES

    Out in the Land of Nod there live three

    Jesuses.

    The Holy will tell you there is only One.

    Don’t you believe it.

    In this Land there are Three. One is

    the Jesus of Olympia, the Jesus of

    the Rainforest. This Jesus lives in

    the hearts and minds of the simple,

       who refuse

    To make judgments or put the price

    of faith on love. These are the worshippers

    of the Jesus of Olympia. The faithful

    fall on their knees and when they see

       the aberrant the intolerant

    The Antichrist posturing in his high heels

    his Manolo Blahniks the followers of Jesus

    of Olympia will go, Well, See? but they

    will not proclaim Anathema. They are

       the gentle ones.

    Two is Jesus of Yakima. He is the God of

    their fathers, the God of Mammon. He is

    the One who is worshipped by those whose

    lives were empowered by the tax rebate for

       the Very Rich,

    And only the Very Rich who worship Jesus

    of Yakima can perceive how High and Mighty

    they really are. George W and his Frau kiss

    the hem of the garment of Jesus of Yakima.

       Aunt Goody

    Sits in her rocker rocking holding the Bible

    upside down pretending to be Granny Good

    when she is really Granny Bad bringing the

    whip of Jesus of Yakima down on the backs

       of those who

    Transgress. Jesus of Yakima manifests

    himself at Congressional Committees and

    gets in the face of liberal senators when

    they refuse to believe that prisoners held

       without counsel

    And without trial are beyond the benison

    of this Highly Moral Jesus. They are dust

    at the feet of Jesus of Yakima. All of Yakima

       is dust at His feet.

    Jesus Three is the Mexican gardener who

    works for my landlady. This Jesus is act

    ually named Jesus he comes from Colima.

    He is a very white Mexican Jesus tall thin

       with a hairy

    Chest and blue eyes. Jesus of course is

    married Catholic with a little Maria

    out there in Alhambra five or six little

    subMarias and subJesuses. Things are

       pretty thin

    For this Jesus. On holidays Jesus Three

    walks from backdoor to backdoor of the

    extremely expensive West Hollywood rabbit

    hutches our landlady leases at outrageous

    sums. Jesus shows himself to the faggots

       who live in

    The rabbit hutches. They come out onto

    their patios with Christmas money for Jesus

    one after another Jesus Three sinks to his

    knees worships at the crotches of the

       faggots of West

    Hollywood. takes it and swallows it.

    brings the money home to Maria. Jesus

    and Maria have Christmas. Thus has it

    ever been. Thus it ever shall be.

    A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

    Christmas. Christmas. Doesn’t that just

    ring your chimes? Ding. Dong. Ding.

    We don’t get our kicks from bygone times.

    We get our kicks from the New York Times.

    Ding. Dong. "Spat over Russia in NATO,

    Rumsfeld Loses Out to Powell." But not

    for long. Ding Dong. Rummy doesn’t

    lose. Not when he’s holding the strings.

       Ding. A Ling.

    "Pearl Harbor survivors at graves of

    comrades in Honolulu". Ding. A Ling.

    Yes. real war real bodies. Real

    blood. feeling the surge yet?

       Dubya was there

    Dubya saw the movie he knew it

    was true. saw the movie in church.

    Ding. Dong. Barbara told him Japs

    were the Enemy. They were Evil.

       Later on,

    When he was a little boy Bush in West

    Texas, Russians were the Evil Enemy.

    Rummy remembers this. That’s why Uncle Tom

    Powell couldn’t refer to Russia in the same

       breath as

    NATO. Held up the conference for twelve

    hours over this little sticking point. Poor

    Powell. What’s an african american gentle

    man of taste doing in this Rat Pack?

       The Witch is

    Dead. Ding. Dong. Have your self

    a merry little Texmas. "Pakistan Ended

    Aid to Taliban only Hesitantly" Yes,

    Colin and Condi, soldiers of America

       and of the

    Commercial Christmas Christ, pos

    itioned warlords of Pakistan right

    on the Christmas Button so’s Our Boys

    could infiltrate that Bad Place while

       Al Qaeda

    Warriors being funded in Pakistan,

    raised in Pakistan, coddled in Pakistan,

    fucked and sucked in Pakistan. had

    free passage across the border. Americans

       had to go

    North to Uzbekistan to get in. pass

    out of Quetta too busy passing Tali

    ban Al Qaeda to be bothered with

    Americans. So much for the Alliance.

       Ding. A Ling.

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