1
"I had been as steady as a Volvo window but
I hadn't been as steady as a Volvo window."
I'll go, just bring me a medic, an ambulance and hide all the evidence.
I must've passed out strapped to that green train at 5.
Luckily I brought along my worst moment,
my Velcro handshake and my Uncle Cecilia.
I know, I know, I'm despicable.
And if anyone videotaped
that little peccadillo in the guest house with the Baroness
God will put my mojo into the frying pan and the fire
and crash the lane certain that I'm dumber
than a raven in love with a Mazda.
The palm of my talon is a sign
and the talon of my Mercedes
is a sign as I. . . peer. . .
through the water... and... into... the page
that disintegrates.
And some of us are total idiots
who move their lips as they read:
"E.T. YOU'RE STEPPING ON MY INSIGNIA."
And although I'd bet the house boy is lying,
I'd bet because I'm a Leo
2
Calm the poor ladder boy.
He backed his Orancha Sanchez Vaccario into me,
disparaged me and then borrowed two of my plants.
And wanted to borrow more! The sun
is sufficient but distinguished from the earth
by its silence and by the way it lights
up when asked
if it will stay out late, latest or later
than that tough guy who feels I slighted him
when all I did was go and notice that he had
poured a mother of two into
Tulsa City.
And without a permit!
It's time someone told his tired ass
to go back and plant my plants in the green distance
and to lose the fucking toe
ring because lost is like taking on another
persona
3
"Ahhh" or was it "Ache" he said "You are one dead mayor"
In our minds were numbers
and in our numbers were tainted explosions that included
tire marks on our foreheads from pirouetting naked
through the mental plumes that were fired on by the manatee
because you can toss your self around arbitrarily
and saucers may talk to you, and Racer X may talk to me
but we lose when we close the door on Aunt Bertha
because the medium is the message we'll need
when we go to that rude, outdoor dentist
and vivisectionist who is so low
that he can't distinguish between a quail-head and an outer bicuspid
and between those and a teapot of rain.
Reference me!
As if I had just defecated, as if
I had just been born with a saber-
toothed-quailhead as my translator.
There is a great distinction between cortisone entering
the vicinity of your tertiary adolescence
and the curiosity of a dog elected mayor
-and a tall mayor-
because no one else will take the time
to look significant
or to raise their eyes from their nap and say
the one letter with talons sharp
enough to turn history into a D-Train to Trenton
4
Although I love obscurity
I don't like the sky
all clouded up and unable to speak.
If I told you I was horribly ill
would you rub salve all over
my impression of Isabel Ringing?
And every day, before you rub me,
would you juggle two Labrador Retrievers
or, in case of parvo,
toss my larynx to the ventriloquists?
This will cure the insomniatic babble
that I say to my self
"Self" I say "You're two pelts short of a fur coat.
And if that doesn't argyle the Virgin Mary
then I'll start a garden and print your name on a cue card.
I'll make it the 'WHO'S WHO' of pederasts and refried beans -
all without naming names (at least mine).
And despite all of the moon's discrepancies
-encrusted and dated as they are-
and despite a myriad of noble penis-heads
I will not defer and see 'Evita'"
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