Ode to Beyonce
I'd settle for a girl like you.
You're conventionally pretty,
like you've been airbrushed but more so.
Nothing special about your hair, eh?
But the way you've arranged it is borderline notable,
my little loaf of wheat bread.
We could have such agreeable days together,
laughing at the correct moments,
spending money perhaps.
Your ethnicity is not overpowering at all,
punctuated by the fact that
your enunciation is so clear.
The American Way has rewarded you amply
for your middle-of-the-road talent,
and you are duly thankful.
The fact that your message is easily digested
by girls of thirteen
makes you non-threatening intellectually.
Yes,
I would have sex with you
in the missionary position.
I'd settle for a girl like you.
You're conventionally pretty,
like you've been airbrushed but more so.
Nothing special about your hair, eh?
But the way you've arranged it is borderline notable,
my little loaf of wheat bread.
We could have such agreeable days together,
laughing at the correct moments,
spending money perhaps.
Your ethnicity is not overpowering at all,
punctuated by the fact that
your enunciation is so clear.
The American Way has rewarded you amply
for your middle-of-the-road talent,
and you are duly thankful.
The fact that your message is easily digested
by girls of thirteen
makes you non-threatening intellectually.
Yes,
I would have sex with you
in the missionary position.
"The Port-O-Let Porpoise's Importunate Portent"
a commedia in three acts
Act I
[wherein is our hero in a low state / a turd's tour of evolutionary existentialism / eclipse / abandon all hope, ye who fester here]
Osvaldo Offal -- Soup! So we were and so I am again. Here in a cell, shot with light. Sludge slowly warmed by the sun's rays. The supple commerce of viscous simples seeping towards their supper. They have supped! For tens of millions of years they have dined and grown lungs to stoke the bellows of their great combustion. Sprouting legs to propel their gourmandism onto land. Their fingers spidered into every crevasse, probing, palpating, plying hands into the very core of their own destiny and smelting gold commodes upon which to smithy my race! I am heir to the human empire. Yet whoa, a sober view compels upon me a warm magnanimity, for I am no end-all, though I be all. Combine, contract, expand, this is life. What curious creature is curdling here amongst our excrescences? Who waits to be born?
a commedia in three acts
Act I
[wherein is our hero in a low state / a turd's tour of evolutionary existentialism / eclipse / abandon all hope, ye who fester here]
Osvaldo Offal -- Soup! So we were and so I am again. Here in a cell, shot with light. Sludge slowly warmed by the sun's rays. The supple commerce of viscous simples seeping towards their supper. They have supped! For tens of millions of years they have dined and grown lungs to stoke the bellows of their great combustion. Sprouting legs to propel their gourmandism onto land. Their fingers spidered into every crevasse, probing, palpating, plying hands into the very core of their own destiny and smelting gold commodes upon which to smithy my race! I am heir to the human empire. Yet whoa, a sober view compels upon me a warm magnanimity, for I am no end-all, though I be all. Combine, contract, expand, this is life. What curious creature is curdling here amongst our excrescences? Who waits to be born?
After near-fatal car crashes, I like to wind down with some morphine and a nice long stay in the hospital. That really takes the edge off. Nothing delights a ruptured kidney and liver, five broken ribs, a collapsed lung, and possible spinal injury like a cute young nurse coming to put my catheter in. Yes indeedy, it's a vacation from the ordinary! Since that day about two months ago I've been convalescing at home with a neck brace and painful ribs. The ribs are coming along, and the only pain in my neck is wearing this damn collar. In four days I go back to find out whether or not I can take it off. I've been lifting weights and playing guitar, so neither my strength nor my dexterity has taken a hit, a good indication that I've done no nerve damage (except for sleeping in this thing, which is on my last nerve). I should be in fine fettle for my friend's wedding. And I've found out that I'm not invincible. I'm only really really good looking.
the night upended, kaleidoscoped in the high beams. everything revolved stone and metal, glass and bone, crumpling paper into a microphone. flung like empty clothes out where my blood lacquered the road a shimmering black. a crawling. not lung enough to scream. a wait and a drifting into dream.
