ONE WILD WARHOONING

(ON CURRIN’S “ROTTERDAM”)

 

The cunt, of course
Not coarse, but slicky-licky smooth—
A Martian chasmata (Noctis Labyrinthus) observed,
Digitized from high altitude—
Shaved hairless oiled
Like the guy’s—
All flopsy what’re-we-here-for!
In-the-bottom-middle-left-hand-corner-of-the-canvas
Jizmed-up intestine-sized cumsacks full o’ spunk ‘n’ goo—
Nuts!
Which I only notice later
Upon closer
(More professional for the artistic business professional purposes of
Writing this poem)
Gynecological examination.
She’s definitely wants it—
That big fat fucking cock
With that big plump underside v-arrow tender cutmeat johncarter
Burrowsighin goin’-for-tha’-gusto cupid helmet head,
Like I said,
Craves it, that big fat hog
Up her dusky red,
Her dejah thoris,
Which that red nosin’ dude—almost
Mostly hidden behind under schiaparalleling
Her squashed—is squeezing:
It, its root in his fucking vainglorious fist,
So it is all puffed up, up, up Heliumy like some
Fucking pink fucking ball-all-night Loose Loosey Anna
hand-selected hand-packed Golden Power
Sweet potato “I yam what I yam” torpedo,
Wantin’ to bury its head in her hull, the impact a resounding
Dong!
He’d sorta sortie and, if he could, tuber
‘N’ give her a grand thoating.
But really it’s a seven-figure oil
Well-hung on his back in the Upper East Side gallery of…
Gag…O,—
Oh, oh, this fucking chick’s face is flushed
Red as a spiral-cut Honeybaked Ham,
Considering the rude rubarbascrewing she’s
About to get into her, her
Right leg all, like, artfully yanked 90 degrees up
As if being dangled from the ceiling
By some invisible secret Asian sexfuckingmedievalhumantoy bonsai
Bondage rope,
So that her inner thighs are way the fuck sashimi splay dis-
Played,
Her ooo sensuous sheer nylon probably seamed stocking,
Wait, I forgot, had to look again—
Her artfully crafted carefully relaxed right
Hand, attired in an elbow-length sheer, but with
A delicate flower pattern,
Black lace glove, 
The tips of whose fingers are excitedly retracting her crotchflesh
So as to more stimulatingly yawningly display completely
Her complexly Latinately-named bits, slits, waves, ridges, hoods, and
Vestibularly plumbable realms of immortal
Feminafeminaefeminaefeminamfemina-hay-hay
Declining reclining declensions:
O, ablative passion, the Tonguably Tharsisial Majesty of It All,—
And, yes, her luxuriously filmy one-dollar-and-ninety-nine cent
Drugstore-brand romaine-hued
(O, lettuce toss, a Caesar dressing I shall my manchovy cozy make)
Stocking fastened by a rrubber slip-grip eye-hooky thing to her
Croutonly crinklesome
Elastic generic white garter belt.
That, too,
And that round-toed light lizardy green patent-leather pump
(Whose worn sole (no pun intended), leathery scuffed, I can see)
With the four-inch geckoesquey-hued patent-leather spiky-type heel
Whose tiny rrubber-tip thingy both pointing stage left
Like the hoisted thigh, flexible knee, wobblesome calf, and,
O, so, shapely ankle
With its cute little gold vulva-mimicking delicate-as-gossamer
Bracelet danglehanging ovally, its pearl
            (Almost missed it, that small detail)
Dripping down towards the action, 
And the, lest we forget, hidden ones, the toes, all five of them,
How moist, pungent—like little wrapped in rred rrubbery
Wax cheeses—
Arched, flexed, even the instep erotically yearning for release—
Up, up, and out
As that immortal oily meat proceeds fist restrainingly unto
Valles Marineris—

Candor!            

Ophir!                        

Ius!

Or, well, at least wants to 
Is burstingly poised for one wild warhooning.
It, the woof!woof! rover red rover come over come over,
It is as poised as that jewel on her necklace big as a pink ice cube—
Same as that rock in Titanic that that ampliciously corset-tied wench
On her heh-heh-heh maiden voyage
Kate Winslet wore when—Omigash!—
She got her watertight door penetrated—
It, daddy’s jewel, pointing, pointing, pointing at her left
            breast tit tittie sweet kittie
Whose unsuspecting Olympus Mons nipple,
The tallest in the solar system, is about to be-da-be (but never will) 
Be-da-be-tweedled maryhadalittlelamb numbdumbdumb
By the guy’s hand coming Mr. Fantastically
Couturierearing from underneath around her back somehow
Or other. 
She’s blonde with soda-can curls.
Lots of eyeshadow, makeup, lickstick, and stuff.
Blusher. Long-lash mascara, I bet.
By her facial expression {mouth pantapanta slack},
I can tell she’s wanting
It—(The Bad Boy Barsooming).
Doesn’t know where it (The Thuvial Thark)
Is.
Too all passioned up.  Too Häagendäazd.
Too all totally lost in a Denmark Tripple-X Swedish long cold
Winter night vodka ‘n’ Tang-induced
Funkytowndreaming of a big ‘fro
Philly Sound soul man stage-spinning o’rollajay’s doctor love train
Super master butter blaster spinflowfinger roll spin that baby round
Lick ‘er down spade,
Keep this orange julius train riding on, seventy six her,
Riding on through—
Ooo!
Not some Norwegian squashededy dood who don’t know no
Knowing me knowing you I have a dream gimme a money money
Supertrooperman after midnight
Hoopdeswoopdedoo meadowlarking lemon
Juice down you leg ABA ball
Probably swishdreamwanting boy or something
Dirty.
Her eyes are closed.
His, too.
The guy.

 

Α ∞◊ ♣ § ♥ ♦ ∞ Ω

 

I CLEAN THE CHICKEN

Meat falls from the bone—
Little chicken, I cannot leave you alone.
A new creation you are to me to be:
I have had you aboil a long, long while—
How odd
  a beast you are, such peckish guile,
Such amusing clucky pluck
For one so cooped up, there’s little luck.
(Scratch! Scratch, o, you! How you make tracks.)
Squawk! Ever antic you take the ax.
That said, your uses ever are so versatile.
I have peppered you, and, yes, you were salted, too;
I have spiced you, yes, with specs of thyme.
Now you are seasoned in, and in the brew
You stew, but that long roil is through.
Carrots, onions, and, o, bay, I say—
Rattle, rattle—your lid is off.
The best of you some say is for the flue.
Now cool; I take stock.
Like a blind man loving Braille,
My fingerhands play over the insides of you,
And I, the disculptor, am taking you frail
A part by a part
Broken only are you acceptable,
To my manipulations susceptible.
Disjointingest you my pleasure is.
Twenty tiny neck-and-spine bones
I roll dicey cross the offal pan.
Grimy, slimy bits I can ‘n’ do command.
Leg and wing bones jumble light—
They once furthered manic flight.
Hackles you will raise no more:
Fluff, feathers—all fanciful façade.
Stern sternum supported wings—
Such a flap life is, such a flutter splutter thing.
Last, the divining clavical rod
Holder up of fowl shoulders proud
Slingshotter of childish dreams—
I will hang you out to dry and snap.
Most of all, little bird,
How I love the schmaltz of you.

 

Α ∞◊ ♣ § ♥ ♦ ∞ Ω

 

ALL IS LOST

Lost souls, lost hope—
I fall away, I lost the rope.
Lost change, lost chance
I don’t wear no silky underpants.
Lost the tune, lost the lead
How much longer ‘til the slaves are freed?
Lost a tooth, lost time—
Got eggs, gotta fry ‘em.
I lost my way. I lost my dog.
I play poker with drunken hogs.
I lost the war. I lost my leg.
I crawl the streets. I like to beg.
I lost money, lost weight:
Chewing thorns must be my fate.
Lost illusions—I lost my cherry;
I like to eat just one raspberry.
Lost pulse, lost light—
Sometimes darkness is quite all right.
I lost my head. I lost my world.
I said ‘Goodbye’ to one more girl.
Lost needle, I lost my eye;
I hear the buzzin’ of outhouse flies.
Lost my hat, lost my umbrella—
Don’t look at me, I ain’t ya fella.
Lost dreams, lost heart:
Your kisses are like poison darts.
I lost a child, I lost a sock—
‘No Answers,’ says the sign. ‘Do Not Knock.’
Lost glove, lost love—
I’m sleepin’ fitful. Do not shove.

Lost harvest, lost cause—
God spins the world, just because.

 

Α ∞◊ ♣ § ♥ ♦ ∞ Ω

 

PALM TREES

The head of Michaelangelo’s “David” rendered as multi-colored dots; a pair of floating red lipsticky lips, superyellow corn kernels, a gazing eye whose lashes are mascaraed, locks of auburn gold hair, streams of orange juice, and a strawberry; waterfalls and fires occupying the windows of an impressive 18th-century palace; three naked guys hanging out in a tunnel; a mashed-up building; a boring building; a Woman of Allah; stuff written on a blackboard; a messy horse with bright eyes; Milky Way Dreaming; some kind of thing with some thing hanging off of it; a big head kissing a big cork or maybe another big head; a Mexican barbershop with roses and bullets painted on one of its walls; an ostrich with a giraffe’s neck and head or possibly a giraffe with the torso and legs of an ostrich; a Last Supper featuring bewigged drag queen disciples and a grinning Jesus in ankle-strap black patent high heels holding up a powder puff as though it were a communion wafer; three black men and a naked black lady doing the Last Supper; a bunch of Israelis doing the Last Supper; Alfred Hitchcock’s movie ‘Psycho’ slowed down to such a point that it takes 24 hours for the entire movie to transpire; a big birdman statue; names on a rectangular metal plate; German and English words on white office walls; towers; a snaking steel wall which convolutes in on itself and measures 400 by 3,165 by 680 centimeters; a whole bunch of big scary transparent intestinal-type industrial air cooling and heating tubes all a-dangly; a boring photo; another boring photo; another boring photo; some chrome balls; some kind of thing with light; some other kind of thing with light; a pile of what looks like garbage with what looks like two people on top of it; some rods; a giant stone egg that impossibly fills a room; projectors, hand-mirrors, glass-bells, and miniature electricity pythons; a Chinese lady sleeping; a Manet and a bicycle; two prehistoric dudes one of whom is unhappy because a tail is either being attached to or detached from his coccyx; a Lionel train-set forest; Ho People; something about Atlantis; 10-foot tall aluminum and steel safety-razor blades; a daddy panda and a baby panda; a bunch of goofy cartoony stuff; a bunch more goofy cartoony stuff; a model of an office building; three men dressed up to resemble the scrawnycute Mickey Mouse of the 1930s cartoons; some life-sized papier-mâché people in somebody’s apartment; doilies; a naked guy squatting on tip toes stuffing a bunny up his ass apparently with some difficultly while a naked woman does a reverse cowgirl on the head of a giant bunny, straddling it and facing its giant floppy feet; houseplants; valentines; some kind of light thing; something about the stages of life or sodomy or something; a guy holding up a Greek tragic mask; a surfer surfing; five guys playing five keyboards each shaped like a different letter which when combined in the correct order spell the word “R-E-L-A-X”; an empty highway billboard frame on a postcard whose margins are emblazoned with the words “Scenic Houston, Texas;” a sensuous English woman wearing black knee-highs and a long-sleeved black mini-dress hiked up around her hips sitting alluringly on the bonnet of an Audi sedan, her right knee flexed modestly inward so that her pubic hair and genitalia cannot be seen; some German people and the word ‘GUT’; a jump-roping Japanese girl who has blue hair and ridiculously large breasts; an orange-haired Japanese girl in garish attire, especially her polar bear vest that has an attached polar bear head; a wide-eyed mouthless bride; a bunch of rectangles; a curvaceous woman in see-through black bikini panties pulling up her skirt as seen from the rear; a bride-girl slumped in the surf covered in tulle wearing in-line roller skates; a woman, possibly Catherine (masochistic [bored housewife] call girl & bisexual vampire) Deneuve, perched on a balcony balustrade wearing a strapless black dress and elbow-length black gloves; five fuzzy women all of whom are actually Marlene “Hot Voodoo” Dietrich; some tourists on a whaling ship in 1997 looking for or waiting for the late movie star Gregory “Atticus, employer of Calpurnia, father of Jem and Scout, defender of a one-armed flaring-nostriled doomed chifarobe mover, steady-handed, spectacle-elevating deadeye shooter of a staggering rabid cur, wiper-offer of white-trash spittle, and befriender of the not-so-bad-after-all basement-dwelling proto-consiglieresque scissor-happy (Oh! Oh, God, he’s behind the door!) raccoon-eyed, punk hairdo’d, knothole-stuffing loonie” Peck who played Captain Ahab in the John Huston film version of Herman Melville’s novel ‘Moby~Dick; or, The Whale)’ 37 years earlier; Cindy Sherman; some woman; a woman who is either kissing herself in a mirror or some other woman; a naked floured dude wearing thigh-high purple calla lily boots who has no pubic hair, chest hair, or underarm hair and who has floor-length lavender, blue, pink, and silver ribbons dangling from his penis, as well as seven white cockatoos perching on his arms and shoulders, and who is topped off by a rubber swim cap (like the kind that ladies used to wear in the 1950s) to which a bunch of snow domes (the kind you shake) have been glued; some weird pictures of heads; an empty glass box on a plinth; a concrete staircase lying on its side; the inside of some rooms; a snake; a pictograph of a fish on a river rock; an arch made out of necklaces of white rocks; the head of a rhinoceros or the outline of some knuckles painted in the sky over Manhattan by a sky-writing plane; a scary woman; a commercial jet at the gate of a large international airport, the jetway’s umbilicus attached to its forward hatch; fireworks; a light switch; the interior of a Renaissance cathedral; a trading floor in Singapore; an advancing glacier; a Chinese guy; a smiling Chinese guy under a cart who has been crushed to death by two watermelons; a Russian hobo holding up the coat of another Russian hobo who has lowered his pants around his ankles in order to reveal that he has had hunks of flesh torn out of the backs of his thighs; a big-nosed, long-haired female Israeli soldier in and out of uniform; what was once a Hebrew bookstore in Berlin; Chinese people; ravens circling an onion-domed Russian church during a snow flurry as children climb a chain-link fence ignoring the man who is hugging a boy in a way that the boy finds uncomfortable; two imaginary naked people; the Hasidic Lone Ranger; a nude woman who has just given birth raising her head to contemplate at the newborn baby lying on her squishy belly who is squinting at her; two guys, each kind of alienated; liverwurst, a sausage, and some head cheese; sliced bread and a gouda wedge; a topless male painter and the right side of his bottomless female model; some apples, art books, classical music cassette tapes, a painting of a black satyr with a semi-erect penis and a sleeping nude uncircumcised Hispanic man, and the skull of a goat; a wave; a guy sleeping; an unmade bed; Cindy Sherman; a Wedgwood concrete mixer; a black dandy gazing longingly at a butler-type footman person while being attended to in bed by four Victorian maids all of whom are white; a leathered-up gay guy simultaneously bull-whipping and flogging two cringing naked gay guys as if he were God expelling them from gay Eden; marble busts speared on a conical rack decorated with a human skull; a huge smeary tree leaning over a dreamy unpaved mountain road down whose path a tiny woman in black proceeds, a jug balanced on her head; a village by a bay; a woman in a lovely bold print dress holding potted lilies or daffodils or some kind of flowers with long stalks while studiously ignoring the completely naked hairless man next to her who is astride a dead dragon in front of a stained glass window and who has dramatically pulled a bow taut and is about to release an arrow; a trio following a masked tiny-guitar playing jester onto a make-believe ship while walking past a fully-clothed man who is apparently having sexual intercourse with a naked woman who is either on fire or is being licked by the flames emanating from the dark abyss on whose precipice she reclines; a boy and his paper boat; fancy draperies; a kid hugging the planet Earth with a bunch of disembodied eyes floating in space behind him; a bald naked crouching guy touching a hand; a pop-eyed woman displaying some kind of concrete loaf thing with stuff embedded in it; a naked woman with firm bosoms perched on a colorful stone pillar with a model of a village at her side; the Grand Duchess Elizabeth of Russia wearing a really big crescent-shaped hat; an obliviously stern George Washington in a blue tri-cornered hat holding a bare-bottomed baby whose head is that of a mature bald eagle; a coloured girl done up as a Spanish princess, a mink lunging down her shoulder biting her bleeding hand (either that or her mink stole only appears to be attacking her); gay-looking Russian sailors with five o’clock shadows marching in close formation, including one who stares impertinently; a guy who looks like Nijinsky bothering some mostly naked women and men having a picnic; some ruins, an orchid, the Winged Victory of Samothrace, and Greek gods and goddesses, most of whom have no clothes on, including one reclining buff dude whose splay-leggedness reveals his well-formed unusually symmetrical pendulous testicles; a guy taking off his T-shirt while another guy lies in bed on his stomach, his hands tied behind his back; something about Catholicism, fancy vestments, and a guy about to slip his erect penis into the eager rectum of the guy lying on the bed in front of him; a guy and his feet sleeping while being ignored by a woman; a couple of people under a little tree; a really worried-looking sprawled dude being symbolically lanced with a Jesus-sized cross by a dude in a toga and socks; a whole bunch of hairy naked guys floating around doing mostly violent stuff to each other; a nude woman with frizzy red hair who has been vertically sawed in half and who is desperately trying to hold on to her right half so that it does not fall; a nude barely pubescent girl who has a duplicate of herself growing out of her back; a nude uncircumcised man with nasty green abscesses on his thighs, ribs, and armpit whose uplifted arm is doing a poor job hiding the fact that he has no head; a guy in a shallow grave being considered by another guy; some creepy holy men; some peasants, probably Peruvians; a naked black guy with no pubic hair or chest hair astride a white horse at the beach and a message from the ancient Greek poet Pindar; a homely man suggestively pointing a pencil at the crotch of a homely woman who clutches a blank piece of paper and who has crossed her legs at the ankles; a guy in a ball cap whose name is probably Acheron with a rifle or fishing rod slung in a case over his shoulder surprising a naked woman whose name is probably Diana whose waist-length pony tail is being combed by her girlfriend in a closet while two dogs watch; a statue of a trapped, falling naked man at a memorial to miners; a naked white guy, the tip of whose penis can just barely be seen, wrestling with or putting on a T-shirt; mythological girls with leaves growing out of their arms and hands; a marble statue of a naked guy whose left leg has been amputated below the knee; two poets boarding the boat to Hell; a man in a leisure suit about to hurl a discus; a happy Chairman Mao; some people, some of whom are naked, some horses, and a person with the head of a horse; a bald guy triumphantly astride a striped nautilus pleased that a crustacean has clamped itself over his penis and testicles and has wrapped its six strong spindly exoskeletony arms around his flesh-covered hips and torso; a guy in a quilt; three ribbon-wrapped people toting a giant Hershey’s Kiss on their shoulders; two fuzzy people doing something that is probably sexual, possibly cunnilingus; two naked people sitting on the edge of a cliff, apparently enjoying the view ignoring a swaddled baby behind them; six scary-looking skull-faced crazy-eyed geezery old people; a naked guy with no pubic hair cowering behind an open door whose somber view reveals a Death Camp-type factory smokestack; waltzing couples, all of whom appear to be heterosexual; some naked guy grabbing his ass while cartoony carrots, forks, skillets, and eggplants with happy faces cavort around him; an unpleasant-looking French woman; Henry VIII; the beach; the forest and a girl; a pietá of a guy holding a prostrate man; another pietá, this time of a man draped over a woman; five astonished people; two white women (one obese), seated, thighs kissing, each attired only in sensible black pumps and sheer black stockings, their filigreed tops as complex as the women’s desires; two white men, seated, nude, one with a generous erection and the other not so much so, both of whose penises tilt right, palm trees in passion’s wind; the rapidly closing lid of a steamer trunk and a bottle of the Japanese fruit-flavored beverage Calpis wrapped in polka-dotted paper sharing the floor of the aforesaid steamer trunk with a wide-eyed and contorted, yet placid, Japanese tart who is strapped down and naked, except for her spider ring, earrings, expertly applied unmussed eye shadow and lipstick, and a large old-fashioned key attached to the choker around her neck; an elderly nude white man kneeling at the breast of a nude white woman who has a short masculine haircut and who is a dead ringer for the highly athletic, happily married Mariel Hemingway; a young woman trying to seduce an indifferent dog; a Russian guy bending down to hug the backside of a cow, apparently so that he can perform a sexual act on it; a reclining nude woman’s abdomen, mostly shaved crotch and vulva as she fingers herself to orgasm to the strains of the andante movement of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 21 (the ‘Elvira Madigan’ concerto), her torso then settling into lassitude before disappearing; two other fuzzy people doing something, possibly engaging in sexual intercourse in the rear-entry position; what at first appears to be a bunch more naked people but is actually a woman masturbating; a bent-over woman exposing her buttocks, anus, and vulva and looking back to watch herself being watched; something that has to do with urine and two middle-aged men, one of whom is naked; a noose hanging above a full-sized mattress on a plywood box, the mattress having recently been slept in as its white sheets and pillows are rumpled, soiled, and unmade, while on the floor around the bed lie an empty fifth of Absolut vodka, a discarded carton of Marlboro Lights cigarettes, a partially crumpled tube of fragrance-free, non-greasy, safe to use with condoms K-Y Jelly, the #1 doctor recommended and most trusted personal lubricant which safely replaces personal moisture in a way that feels natural, helps enhance sexual pleasure, and is so safe it can be used everyday, a full ashtray, some Polaroid instant photographs, a bulbous bottle of Orangina soda, a pink plushy dog, sandals, a box of condoms, white underwear, panties, some flesh-colored (i.e. Caucasian) nylon lingerie, a used condom, and another ashtray; a gynecological examination table, a chrome stool on rollers which swivels, a computer on a stand, jewelry, a cup, and large freshwater fish inside a room-sized tank with Plexiglas walls that is, of course, filled with water; a skinned dog with fangs that has smoke coming out of its ears; a really big really scary spider; a guy in a shiny speed skating suit, the superclingy kind that covers the entire body including the top of the wearer’s head, except that his hands and feet are enclosed in balls the size of basketballs, thus making it difficult for him to walk, swim, or fly; about 25 Teutonic-looking naked ladies, none of whom have pubic hair, each with white hair and closely cropped mannish white haircuts wearing identical strappy white high heels standing around looking bored; a guy on all fours completely draped by a tan cow hide; an oval room with doors and a movie; a guy on a gurney whose head is a TV set; a woman in a chadour on a motorcycle trying to be ‘cool’; a woman lying on a marble slab in a roofless outdoor room whose walls are adorned with posters of a man and a woman having really, really superhot sex; a grimacing Chicano guy buried up to his neck who, at first, has one automatic .45 pistol positioned point-blank at the side of his head, but then finds that the tip of the barrel of a second .45 has been placed against the other side of his skull, and then, finally, is forced to fellate the tip of the barrel of the first gun; a Hasidic dude exposing his ample woman’s breast and staring at it; a guy whose white shirt and pants are covered in blood whose head is a hunk of red meat and who seems to be okay with the situation; a naked black guy wearing a top hat and a thick leather slave collar who is being painfully yanked up by a chrome steel chain by someone or some source that is unseen; a bald Chinese guy with so many Chinese characters proliferating on his face and head that his head eventually becomes covered with black greasepaint; a guy with dreadlocks and tattoos of grinning skulls, a tiger, and butterflies; a guy with Pacific Northwest Indian geometric designs on his torso and about 20 bigass needles piercing his bald scalp; a scary bald guy in some kind of pseudo-martial arts pose who has creepy abstract tattoos all over his body; a guy who looks like he has had an ancient Chinese watercolor of a rural landscape tattooed on his chest; a tattooed guy standing waist-deep in a pond whose most prominent decoration is a cross flanked by flames rising out of the tattoo of a life-size superred heart in the middle of his chest and in the very center of the heart a swastika is formed by the absence of ink; a patient getting a long needle stuck jabbed poked into his upper lip; some X-rays; a white skull on top of a bust from whose blue neck and shoulder muscles sprout pink and cream-colored flowers; a guy whose left arm is about three times too big because he is sewing it onto his shoulder; some weird computer image of a body; some body parts; a head; a heart; a wicker basket containing a lifelike Caucasian torso that has a filthy round chrome bathtub drain where the navel should be; a model of a prehistoric bird, the archaeopteryx; a can of Coca-Cola (classic) in outer space; red blood cells; some cubes floating around; Molecular Compound #8; the Onomanomerics of the P-cycle; a blurry red thing with creepy rib things; an X-ray of a fishbird with a human eye; smoke in an Erlenmeyer flask; creepy six-foot-tall white penile vegetative stalks under a black sky and blazing white sun; a big tree stump whose roots are still attached lying on its side; the head of a rhinoceros with a ladder growing out of it; a distinctly non-Seussian tableau in which a pigbird, a ducksnake, a coweagle, and three ferreteels tearing apart an unhappy goatgoose; a white mouse and a robot; three Florence flasks, each containing a different colored liquid; the farm of the future; something about the Human Genome Project and a wrecking ball and a limousine; a mattress speckled with cell samples that look like urine, feces, and blood; 21 genetically damaged frogs whose damage is hard to make out; something called a “Zoo Kit”; closets full of white boxes that contain cell samples; something having to do with transgenic ecology, a biological robot, and the Internet; one of those silvery ‘Let’s pretend!’ ecoperfect space colony Biospherian things that happens to be at a beach; an unhappy clown or mime who wants to cry possibly because he has no hands; giant heads of superhappy black people who have red skin; Hindu love; a red room with white curtains; two blue guys lying on their backs under a tree, diametrically opposed from each other and whose heads almost touch the tree’s trunk; something written on a wall in English script, Arabic and some other languages, probably Urdu, Hindi, and Sanskrit; a hunk of stainless steel that looks like an evil glowing superintelligent homicidal sickly-sweet smelling choronium space cloud from an episode of ‘Star Trek’; some Polynesians, the moon, a parrot, a tree, a dove, and a fetus; an uppity Persian lady in a shawl holding a boom box, and two medieval Egyptian archways.

 

Α ∞◊ ♣ § ♥ ♦ ∞ Ω

 

KROGERING GIRL

Shopping with a girl who’s got coupons in her purse
Shopping with a girl, she buys generics for her curse
Our finances could not be worse
Shopping with a Krogering girl

Shopping with a girl who’s handling fresh produce
Shopping with a girl, she likes to squeeze my orange juice
We’re not buying styling mousse
Shopping with a Krogering girl.

Shopping with a girl under bright fluorescent lights
Shopping with a girl who buys only Diet Rite
She tries to keep her fanny tight.
Shopping with a Krogering girl.

Shopping with a girl shod in pink pastel flip-flops
Shopping with a girl in a spandex tube-type top
My love for her’ll never stop
Shopping with a Krogering girl

Shopping with a girl got a figure like a kidney bean
Shopping with a girl who’s my dairy compartment queen
You fellas know just what I mean
Shopping with a Krogering girl.

 

Α ∞◊ ♣ § ♥ ♦ ∞ Ω

 

WAFFLES!

Who’s going to eat my waffles?
Who’s going to ice my cake?
Who’s going to feel real awful?
Who’s got my garden rake?

Snakes, snakes, snakes!
I’ve got a bowl of snakes!

Cakes, cakes, cakes
I’ve got a cake to bake!
Your marriage is unlawful—
That’s why the earth will shake.
Quake, quake, quake!
Vesuvius got baked! 

Snakes, snakes, snakes!
I’ve got a bowl of snakes!

Waffle, waffle, waffle!
I’ve got a brown hot waffle.
Why don’t you get a maw full?
Don’t care ‘bout cold falafel!
I’m talkin’ ‘bout my waffles!
Waffle, waffle, waffle!

Snakes, snakes, snakes!
I’ve got a bowl of snakes!

Thick, thick, thick the butter.
Hot, hot, hot the syrup.
Fluff, fluff, fluffy, fluffy!
Eat until you bur-up!
Bur-up, bur-up, bur-up!
I bet you feel real puffy!

Snakes, snakes, snakes!
I’ve got a bowl of snakes!

Fakes, fakes, fakes!
Your fingernails will break.
Take that ol’ Picasso—
Tell him he’s not so hot so
He’ll shake that garden rake!

Snakes, snakes, snakes!
I’ve got a bowl of snakes!

Lake, lake, lake!
The monster’s in the lake.
Take her for a jig so
She’ll eat your kosher matzos!

This song should be shorter.
I know it really orter.
I’ve got three daughters.
They’ve taken all my quarters.

Change, change, change!
I’m feeling so dewaynged!

I’ve got the waffles!
Waffles, waffles, waffles!

 

Α ∞◊ ♣ § ♥ ♦ ∞ Ω

 

WAITING FOR THE CALL

The dachshund and I reading Jane Kenyon,
A poet, him attentive and brown
Beside me in our easy chair,
Flipping pages through seasons of New Hampshire,
Learning of ice and mud and motes
And Earth’s open wounds and the deepest pools and
Red rubber flip-flops and the rain that will never stop.
The dachshund and I contemplate
The contemplation
A finger in the ear.

I find I have to slow down
Or speed up and fly
Too many depressions for my transmission,
Too many glacial erratics for my team,
Yes, too many big poetry words, too—
Attar, charily, throstling, and rufous
And involute and vole and vetch—
Sounds where meanings will not grow.
I do not need my crankcase cracked.
It is odd enough as is.
I do not want my coulter,
The blade before my plow, to bend.
My hardpan is baked and odd enough as is.

There is death under this cover—
Nurses and needles, cancers that return
Like friends you never liked, long walks in hayfields
After dark, unseen flies that buzz,
Cowpies waiting soft and warm.
This lady’s pear is rotten, and she is dead.

The dachshund puts down his head, closes his eyes,
Tired of all this back and forth,
But when the oven calls, he, startled, flies.
Meatball pizza. Saturday night.