How to Kill a Rabid Animal by Alex Banks
Channel: Alex Banks
Date: 2011-09-10

All poems on this channel are read by volunteers. 

How to Kill a Rabid Animal
by Alex Banks

And he saw the dead rotting corpses rising through the cracks in the floor.
Tuning in to static to settle the mind.

I made instant rice. The sound of the bag bobbing up and down in the pot sounded like someone enthusiastically jerking off.
The last time I used a public restroom and had to listen to the girl two stalls down texting her friends while she took one shit after another.
These are the guidelines for your tiny little public confessionals.
People have sex with mice, they do.
And they write about it on the walls. Every last little detail and each scrape of the nails against their genitals.

I do not know if I want to know this and yet I do because these people have to document every reoccurring exploit.
Every father molesting his child with a fake vegetable oiled tan and furrowed brow -
Always looking directly into the camera and smiling.

Everything comes back to sex and what gets people off properly
And what leaves them wanting?
Those oh-so-difficult periods of stagnancy spent seeking out the family pet, 
The younger sibling,
The work out gear, the noose, the plastic bags, produce and humiliation, 
the whips, the pills, the sharp device,
Self-containment, swallowing, digesting.

The universal truth is:
Gang bangs are empowering.
Don't swallow what you can't fuck.
Food and shit are interchangeable.
When the party's over, kill yourself in public.

Humanity is highly fecund in its depravity.
 
Bring on the shaking asses and tits! There are important questions that need to be answered!
"Can they fit SIX fists in there?"
"Is it longer than my arm?"
"What can she do with her puke?"
"Will they eat ALL bodily fluids without exception?" and, of course, "How will they eat them?"

And I am listening to the texting, and the shitting, and imagining her with the mouse at a frat party being egged on by all the flush-faced college dudes who are aching for a new vid to put online.
They're tugging at themselves while she's gagging.
They're high-fiving their friends.
They're making advance plans to bring the retard girl next weekend.

And this is the root of it all. The reason we're all here.
Everyone wants to get off. And somehow birthdays are supposed to be sacred.

Poem read by Pat Wenzel
Videography by Jamie Robinson