Poet's Korner

"Steed Stetson Has Voted"

As I sat in Doc’s saloon awaiting 

the results I couldn’t help but 

think neither candidate would 

be best for Salt Creek 

I stared into my third virgin 

martini and thought of the time 

I had to choose between 

sucking a damp bedroll 

or sipping a spittoon 

to stave off thirst 

If you ask me, the decision I made 

at my precinct earlier wasn’t much 
different 

Either way I felt I was lining 
the pockets of the cattle barons 

Clem was a breath of apolitical 

fresh air — he explained to 

the three or four haggard 

patrons that to abstain from 

voting as he had was still 

participating in the demi-cratic 

process 

At least that’s what I think 

he said—couldn’t hear too well 

over the confounding new strains 

of proto-contemporary ragtime 

fusion he was churning out 

on the tack keytar as he spoke 

I looked up from my glass to see 

Miss Roberta enter the establishment 

her downcast expression belied 
the cloying “I Voted” sash on her 

person 

We exchanged a wordless nod 

as she bellied up to the bar 

Doc poured us each a whipped 

cream-flavored vodka 

Miss Robert muttered something 

about the balloting booths 

cluttering up her school house 

and we downed the hatch 

The spirit was as over-distilled 

as the ubiquitous campaign 

literature, simplified to 

the point of obscenity 

What an insult to Salt Creek’s 

dozen or so intelligent folk 

After a few belts I found my hat, rose 

to my feet, and cinched up my chaps 

Doc said nothing as he polished a tumbler, his 
mustachioed face staring vacantly

I’d settle up next time

my credit was good with Doc—he knew 

I kept him in arm 
garters 

Time to hit the trail 

with the innumerable fine 

dirt particulates in the air 

There’s no need for polling 

places on the high plains

The only duly-elected town dog catcher 

is the turkey vulture 

circling eagerly above

--Steed Stetson

The Korner Kares

Here at The Kreation Korner, we pride ourselves in making a difference. But it's not just our flagship Kontent product and its liberating effects we peddle. This may be news to some of you, but occasionally we break off some of our vision and skills as a service to organizations looking to win the hearts and minds of konsumers close to home and far afield. Plus we're striving to parlay our kapacity for konsultancy into a new revenue model. The following video is part of a kampaign we're doing for a new group whose mission is to educate humanity and other sentient beings about the importance of self-love in the effort to stave off impending environmental katastrophe. We did this one pro bono but you've got to start building your klient base somewhere! Be moved and heed this straightforward kall to action:

Musik Korner

Hails, Kreationists! On the eve of the American nation's birthday, it is our pleasure as political provocateurs/apathetes to bring you nothing speaking in any way to said celebration. Instead, we at the Korner are proud to showcase a new celebration of the true spirit of Kreationism, in the form of previously-lost demo recordings from a house band of sorts at the KKHQ circa 2006ish. Just prior to our venerated launch into cyber-space, it is true that such an entrancing, tremolo-picking din would greet any and all visitors to our humble offices, as we were financially forced at times to rent out space to whomever might help pay our rent that month. In the midst of all that, the most reliable source of rent was a group of musicians obscured in monastic robes and armed with glossy black guitars. Seeing as there were and are no boundaries to kreationism, we welcomed their racket and money with open arms, and even took it upon ourselves to record a track or two. Lost until today, when we were cleaning out Percy Stankowski's old editing bay, these tracks can now see the light of day (or the pitch-black countenance of the void). Grovel:

Does Anybody Really Care?

For our second post of the fiscal new year, we present to you the latest in occasional kontributor Bill Johnson's series of digital kollages inspired by pseudo-philosophical popular music lyrics by bands named for major American cities. This one's called "The Presumptuousness Of Chronological Awareness." Cetera:

Poet's Korner

I don't wear denim

pants as

a political statement

I don't wear denim

at all it's a

political statement

--Fig Nugent