step right up, folks; take a ride
on the living, breathing, seething, screaming
roller coaster
spend your dimes
fly high
but don’t be late
for the indoctrination
pass the milk, please, Kat
and have a tin plate
for your mother’s sake
i can spell it out — given room
if not, candles must do
don’t stop the soup —
refer to the end and translate
for Pete’s sake!
i want to tell you
about little lost puppies
and charred nightmares
but the President stepped in
to break me into
scraps of porcelain
painted, painted, painted barnacles
on my rose-tinted glasses
a slice of pie was all was left
the coop open
chickens fled
guile and flattery
stole my diapers before i was ready
but to see the end
oil and vinegar
better than a beachfront war
tickled bearings
in an aluminum drum
lost my bearings
then, caught your eye
as i fell from the crest
to plunge into hell and high waters
bother!
frontal assault
on the only real feelings
i could muster
left it all to the barber
for a dollar
sorry, the staff said in blue tenderness
meant to achieve serenity
loose-fitting temples
leave me cloudy
but that’s what rainbows are for
after the tempest — you know —
i can’t define it any better than this
without a paperclip or a hairpin dream
to guide me
do you feel the razor
playing in my fears?
and do you see bowling on the freeway
as something for amateurs?
is it not mud that slows the game?
you know, we can zoom
with ice on our toes
. . . what a sham
it had to come out like this
the problem?
fingers aren’t fast enough
to transcribe your demands
that’s where a good kick
in the adrenal gland comes in . . .
coffee, my dear?
so much circus food in the corner box
leaves us in ecstasy
but drops into Hell
where the angels lie
in tight little rows
and the Devil takes inventory
what a laugh when i realized
all that crying was in vain
the bucket was already full —
time for a drink . . .
girl, if i ever get out of this mess
you can sit on my knee
and tell me about all the curiosities
i’ve been missing for years now
on this ride on the water trap
up into space
“Hallelujah!”
spelled the quaking nun
with her last remnant of willpower
“‘Remember the Alamo’ and, for that matter, scatter the Word”
reading the runes
is like following snails
down the gangplank
have at it for old time’s sake
don’t bury your heart
in an empty bottle
powers that be will always have their say
in the realm of broken typewriter keys to sanity
often lost on the ring . . .
so hard to slip under the door . . .
cracks in the ceiling let the rain in
you’re roaming ‘round inside my mind
splashing!
you know
swimming is so cold this season
but the water is crystal clear
we’re faces in the mirrors of our past
smiling steady down the track
with tickets wide as a lifetime
it’s easy to move lead when riding the rails
and you don’t have to stop at the crossroads
still, trespassing on your thoughts left me slightly confused
and ticks on the clock exacted their toll
but i’m so happy you decided to stay
and help me make the payments.
