'One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star'- Nietzsche
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All You Need Is Zinc and Copper

by John Kendall Hawkins


We’re already over it

Post-pandemic parties are being planned

Zoom weddings are now needing consommé

Mirepoix, strains, olios

Stacked up like Warhol zoomcampbells

Twiggy Styx

Live stream breakout Dionysian orgies

To eye-pop the poncey Apollonians


And there’s this guy

Down Madagascar way

Selling madcap elixirs

Artemisia annua to deal

With pestilential effluviums

Artemis of Ephesus

Who putschy Germans in beerhalls

Later dubbed Lady Liebfraumilch

Babylon Berlin, right? Many taps open

Juice of wormwood, absinthium

Victoria’s Secret Dreams

Erin go bra-less

And here we are



And speaking of magical elixirs

The hoaxer in the house white now

Who we fear has infectious baboonic plague

Double downs closetrussianqueen

He says, to ward off Elvirus

Calling him morbidly obese

Or was it morbidly obtuse

(Our collective future morbidly, o, bleak)

He might just drop dead

Which would save us all that

Hypocritical handwringing

Should some Lefty pop him in the head

And he smirks up

Holding the pristine magic lead

And saying the hoax is on you


I was reading the other day

And every day’s the other day for me

That crazy Isaac Newton

Steeped in gravity and alchemy lead

Dropped not just apples, but heads

As Master of the Royal Mint

Drawing and quartering

Folks who metaled with the coin of the realm

(Heads would be a-rolling today)

And once wrote cryptically in his diary

‘Punching my sister’

And longed to beat the snot out of Leibniz

But, then, who didn’t?


All I know is

Where’s Ted Koppel’s nightline

When you need it to dignify

To count the days

We’ve been held hostage

By TV news and Dr. Bright

And Sisyphean dimwits

From Densa, the foothill village at IQ Hill

All as cover for something worse

Than Iran-contra and North’s

Alfred E. Neuman smile?



I’ve had a williams hankering

To dial 9-1-1

Cause everything seems to be falling

Freely all around in its own footprints

And I’m beginning to see sex scenes

Sublime and subliminal

In my G and T ice cubes

Corona morphing into bin Laden

And feeling ostrichsized with no one to emulate

It all makes my head spin actually

Right off its axis

Like The King of the Bingo Game

But the doggone river was dry


Can’t wait for the HBO series


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