Carlo Parcelli


I          II          III          IV          V

IV: Stylos Kynikos

Cynic Stylos Kynikos bristles at the notion that Jesus, too , was a cynic.

What dog be this 
                  But lend pretense ta be dog?
             It fashion what be but cur.
Be it this raven, Yeshua, what creep about Gadara
                    For stock bits a Mennipos ,
            As Diogenes and Crates be 
                    What his god kecks by spoliation and death.
            These that by their fetid acts 
     Ministrate a notion what be not godly or dogly
                As be this economy a letters in some parlances,
But namore but put the taint a sin in our labors
                As we not so much labor 
            So as not ta be brush a such evil.
Ravens and sparrows be a this shite Yeshua.
                A fuckin’ fief and fraud
What twist and pop upon the pyre 
            The very strokes a the Antisthene a stort.
For what a lily be ta a man?
                 And if be so why the sparrows’ cheep
What hail a pickpocket quick as a Mary.
            Yet who doth not spin go naked
And this we have seen as Diogenes piss and shite
                 And go buff a the thoroughfare
            And gob the puss a the rich.
And so the Dog bide Yeshua do the same
                 And that he not render the poor a their bequest.
 And what toss dice ta determine not Barsabbas but Matthias
            And other tasks what be sewed by bones.
The rich be but sheep wif golden fleece
                 And what they be fleeced by Yeshua 
What be beggared by empire,
            Not beggared a themselves
But a witless conceit what advance.
            And what the Sinope be ta chide a whore or fief
What be not keen ta seek him out who has naught
                         What they as he ta dine 
            Wif revenuers and Judies and other sordid publicans
As but accrue ta others what he has forsaken.  
                  The Dog waddle his tangy bung a these 
In the thoroughfare or at temple
             And all Athens amend its lust a fortnight.
And he beg a Anaximenes but piss upon his boots
        What Jesu’s doxy see fit ta anoint wif oil
                For no bile a the rebbi.
        Aristotle enlight Alexi Magus what by turn mind the Sinope
                As the Sinope boon the king but a smudge 
                     What want ta stand clear a his light.
And why chrism for none bear up this creed
                But tithe ta be borne up?
He too so borne a sop be a rag in the hot sun.              
        The Sinope too be much reviled and much revered.
And I concede Athens had not Rome’s foot up its ass
               But so better will ta lay low a these guinea fucks
Than ta get ‘em pissed up about missin’ a siesta
               What some wank cause a stir ‘bout Herod’s Gate.
That’s just me thinkin’ on the topic
           What have centuries wise.
                 And seen what blood rite and omens’ tether.
And Cosmo the Sinope have it seem he but a bowl to dwell
          But it be the tortoise shell upon what this Yeshua strides
And a happy dog be its meat and claw.
          Not some simple wank 
What got ta work through bile, blood and infinite sorrow
               Like a surgeon a some decimate phalanx
To cupel a masih’s ass in a golden chalice
               Or cauterize it wif Rome’s light
As pity be a those what seek pity there
               Enslaved ta an after life as they be.


About the Author:
Carlo Parcelli has spent 40 years studying the epistemology of science
and technology and their effect on the natural world and naturally
evolved cultures. He specifically challenged the efficacy of progressive
systems of quantification, mathematization, mathematical discretion,
formal systems game theory etc., since these elements form the core of
the way western man can think about his world and all the limitations
such an epistemology implies. Parcelli has written 14 book length poems
which embed numerous sources and elaborate in great detail his
insights. He has also written numerous articles. Now, he is content to
watch the Earth scribble its own Apocalyptic Epic in real time.
    Having failed to reach virtually anyone concerning his epistemological
concerns and seeing the natural world taking its future into its
own hands via global climate change, Parcelli embarked on a retelling
of the Synoptic Gospels. The Canaanite Gospel is comprised of 88
monologues, primarily eyewitness accounts known as Divine Depositions,
recorded by the Apostle Simon Kananaios or Simon the Zealot
in the First Century A.D.
    He currently spends his evenings busking local bars in the Washington
DC area dressed as Simon Kananaios, performing his monologues
in exchange for drinks and the occasional monetary remuneration.
    Visit carloparcelli.com for performance videos and more.

The 88 published monologues:

order through
Amazon or Country Valley Press

"So's the boys at the pub ask,
if he's resurrect, where the fuck is he?"


Poet Vaudevillian
Carlo Parcelli
The Canaanite Gospel
A Meditation on Empire
88 Monologues

Country Valley Press / FlashPoint
ISBN 978-0-9820196-2-7      $11.95

Earlier versions of the monologues can be found in:
  FlashPoint Spring 2010 / Issue 13

For information about live performances of The Canaanite Gospel
see our Live Performance online flyer.