This fractured
start is getting my nowhere.
It's going to take a lot more than poetry
and wine to scale love's ultimate sigh.
I need some kind of God to come down
and rescue me. A mayan god would be
perfect, with spear in hand.
Then come his dances.
Being the victim in love is akin
to being buried in someone's backyard
barbeque pit.
My bones refuse to burn with the pork ribs.
My soul with its awful voice
tries to borrow favors.
Hey! It calls to the spirit of a mesquite.
Pin me with your thorns,
I need to stick around for awhile.
Find myself a few bad husbands
so I can cavort in peace.
If you know what I mean.
I thought then that I needed to find
a new sidewalk to stroll upon,
a new park to listen as I toss my thoughts
like madness into the trees.
Whoever said life was going to be easy?
Every old man is disappointed in his eldest son.
Every second another child escapes,
and his mother weeps but his father doesn't say
one word.
He just sits smoking his pipe or his moist cigar
waiting for the clock to tell him it's late
enough
to pour that first drink.
Moonlight hangs its draperies across the solid
night.
Young girls spin like stars,
waiting for somebody to notice.
"Drag" (slam by Zaran)
O' Cry
The rain falls in sputters and strings
lamenting on all of those caught out of doors.
Hints of daylight. Oh Lord, just what the world
needs is
another flood. Come enobled earth, drink the waters
which fall
from the sky. Such a tragedy and me caught red
handed in a leather
bustier. Diamonds embedded in the asphalt. A tale of
divinity I'm sure.
Long lines behind the counter at Frown Town. They
are having a sale.
Two for the price of one.
Betrayals and random acts of bravery. My reason for
living.
Mankind in vintage form. Imagine a world without
burdens. Imagine!
Farewell guilt! Farewell sculptor of anger! Good bye
hate, see ya later
alligator.
What a disaster. A strain of hail. Thunder rocks the
sky.
I grow a new pair of eyelashes. Remove my bustier
and live
like a man, topless. Chest poking out every which
way.
Extreme flashes of lightning. Sheets of rain now.
Bedspreads of thunder. People acting like animals.
Kangaroos hopping from cover to cover.
Punching their way through the storm.
A cartoonish sense of fortitude
and laughter, peals of laughter.
Coming from where? My throat.
Bring on the rain. Bring it on.
I'm half naked anyhow.
Like Shakey Horton says:
Have a good time.
Just have a good time.
We're gonna have a good time.
We're gonna rock and roll all night long.
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