we will dance the hoochee koochee i will be your tootsie
wootsie if you will meet in st louis meet me at the fair
and there she is sprawling across the prairie reaching all
the way out with striped dash dot dash blue grey legs and arms dozens of arms
she all kali and cute stretching getting all yogalini toward kansas city pushing
up against the mighty mississippi like it was some shaky headboard attached to
a squeaky brass frame and lo her body bodes breeding her hips oh her curves up
and over and around embracing the prairie floor
i admire her from the top floor of the parking lot a phat
joey dipped in honeybud dipped into my lungs gently down the stream merrily
merrily longer yet milder my own personal midwestern club rasta
digga digga
chigga chigga
chop suey for st louis
tap tap the ashes floating down five floors snowly slowly
onto taxis buses pickup trucks and john deere himself all circling our prairie
princess paying homage to her lucky lindy lilliepad
and i dance down the stairs cross the skyway
enter her pulling baggage behind me finding her opening her weakness
finding my way in
looking up in awe and wonder
a kid in the magic kingdom i’m captured by her spell sweet
sweet cinderella let me be your cinderfella
them brightly lit corridors all a-white and windowed people
scurrying this way that way doing the hokey pokey in the middle of the day in
the middle of life bright afternoon sun blasting blaring declaring through the
floor to ceiling glass to any and all declaring that she was hot and bothered
thou shalt not fuck with her
not today don’t even think about it she can fry your egg on
the sidewalk she can sizzle your soul in the shade yes i just thank my lucky
stars that i am inside enclosed existing
and i know i am here only by her patient and all merciful
grace
doing the hokey pokey putting my left foot in
oh meet me in st louis meet me at the fair don’t tell me the
lights are shining any place but there
stopping to breathe perch myself up on the barstool that
sits
not up along affronting sturdy polished mahogany a bar with
ancient water rings fossilized etched into its soul
nor does it even sit against faux formica woodgrain with
expensive mugs of cheap bud sliding along
merrily merrily
merrily merrily
life is but a song
no simply stopping to sit upon a bent to the shape of not my
ass but for the perfect ass described to me to us by some gay underwear
designer by posing his boyfriend on billboards throughout the land and on the
back pages of the right magazines with which we make a scene polished metal
seat atop a polished metal pole with no thought much less attempt to attach an
attachment upon which to put my feet
in front of a polished stainless steel bar serving not to
feed me but my laptop phone ipad left nut right nut feed my need greed my weed
buzz buzz
buzz buzz
samsung charging station
channeling david byrne life during wartime how did i get here
but fuck
what’s a guy to do guess it’s just a sign of the times the
way of the day the magic of the moment
a socially necessary distraction an indefinite departure from
our deep down in the primal plasmatic goo hard coded basic instinctive drive to
run up behind
that
her
she
yes
her ass peeking out from beneath short shards of cloth just
crawl up behind it stick my nose up close and personal give it a big sniff and
howl
as i see the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness starving hysterical naked dragging themselves through the negro streets
at dawn looking for an angry fix
and so i dig into my bag o’ tricks
as she the mystery voice of god herself speaks to me and the
multitudes she speaks from the faux clouds above she suggest gently that our time is
nigh that our seat awaits up up and away in our beautiful balloon our
beautiful our
beautiful our
beautiful balloon
down the tube through the portal flirt with the waitresses
wearing hotpants and tall pink hats
who strap me down straddle and threaten me with a scolding
tongue lashing in an exit aisle seat asking me if i’m responsible if i’m
willing to assist others should this big tin bird bite the big one
i can't look away she they have me in the clockwork orange chair of no resistance my eyes pried open
i nod in agreement
the pressure too much i return to my bag i dig i plow i go
on safari deepest darkest heart of darkness a bend in the river
aha voila
yeah yeah yeah that’s the way it is that’s the way it goes i
open up that little package of yummy gooey goodness it’s all officially wrapped
i tear open the foil all sealed up airtight ready to last til five minutes past
armageddon all adorned
with proper bureaucratic statements regarding the product’s
purpose what not to do during the stated effective period perhaps affective
period considering its content considering its molecular structure its sentence
structure its grammatically significant appeal to rhyme and reason
and just where would i find heavy machinery any way
and there are ink blots with tables and charts indicating strength intensity
percentages of active ingredients tetrahydrocannabinol cannabidiol and narratives of some not
so active ingredients like gelatin flavoring color sweeteners citric acid wax
and love
yes yeah
lemme tell you right here and now
love
she is an active ingredient
with a healthy recommended daily dose
and a romp in the hay with a two-legged texan blonde and
true with eyes of blue oh yes she is an active ingredient
comes complete with a healthy recommended daily dose twice
on sunday twice with a sundae
with official symbols and a bright and prominent green cross
branding as in made especially for signed sealed delivered she’s yours
if you can find your way to her sticky viscid viscous vanity
because once you tear along the dotted line indicated by the
tiny little open scissors graphic international sign for cut my wrists you
still have to liberate her little wiggly rowboat oh so delicately lift her from
free her from the sealed cellophane peel it back gently nudge her watch her
arch her back respond to your touch
jiggle jiggle wiggle wiggle giggle giggle
must be jelly cuz jam don’t shake that way
bits o’ shaky puddin’ pie dance the edge
make them cry
cross the t’s
dot the i’s
circle the oh’s
curl the toes
and then
and then
and then there’s that oh my moment
scooby doo ecstacy
as she lands on your tongue
that oh my moaning moment jesussette dispensing with her own
communion eat of my flesh drink of my juices slurp of my joy
ah ma chere qui ont mange le kif
j’ai mange du kif
ah ma chere i am zee locksmith of love no
baby oh baby nom nom nom cherchez la femme
and the waitress dabs the grey of her ashes on my forehead
provides me with her blessing absolves me of my sins for yes i have sinned i
have sinned i envy i lust i covet i crave
i breathe
i glance about the plane i know and love everyone aboard the
father the son the holy ghost and jabba the hut who sits next to me he
overflows from the middle seat the fat of his flesh slithers like bowlfuls of multidimensional amoebas covered with a damp tee shirt sporting his undying
respect for ted nugent
and i will an invisible wall of lysol
and lean my attention across the aisle up one row to a brown
man tall and dressed like charlie sheen and the safety officer waitress she
suggests she asks she urges him to take his bag emblazoned with a fabulous late
century walmart logo cradled in his lap she suggests she asks she urges him to
put it up into the overhead compartment before we launch
he refuses he says said sack possesses popcorn a popcorn of
special meaning of personal importance he needs to protect it
he embraces it defends it
she insists
he refuses
he looks around the plane searching for friendly eyes beseeching
moral support all the others they look down they look around they look out the
window at their newspapers they do their sudoku he is indignant i give him a
big cheshire cat grin soft and stoney i love him i am embarrassed for him i
want to give him the benefit of the doubt i want to think that perhaps the
popcorn was popped in his lover's love juices perhaps he sprinkled his grandmother’s
ashes upon the tender kernels
eat of me so that you may know my wisdom know my heart
i want to hold him in my arms place my hands around his
throat and squeeze it til he sputters and sprays stutters and prays
and say to him brother ease your burden give me the popcorn
allow me to lift your spirits i am stoned and starving munchie madness mauls my
mellow
and i almost cut my hair
but i didn’t
and i wonder why
it’s almost like i’m feeling
someone
and it’s not the waitress in the hot pants and tall pink hat
because she storms off up the aisle she speaks into the bat phone she points
back down toward us me and my soulmate with added salt butter and brewers yeast
she stops speaking she lowers her pointing arm she looks away from us she looks
toward us she sighs hangs up the phone smiles shrugs slinks into her safety
seat straps in masturbates and moans as the jets go
vroom vroom
and everyone of us pushes our feet through the floorboard
and we do the fred flinstone twinkle toe tap dance down the runway as air
pterodactyl soars into the sky
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night
we of the twinkle toe takeoff blend our history and our
poetry and our personalities into a single-celled entity suddenly believing in
god for that split second that moment of doubt that molecular belief that it is
against god’s will for us to fly we close our eyes and pray to serendipity she
who whispers to us one by one sugary sweet nothings sugar plum faeries
a-dancing on our eyelids she blows them away as if they were elven candles on a
birthday cake
little puffs of love
and it’s wheels up and my eyes open three days later arising
from the dead to sit at the right hand of love
we will dance the hoochee koochee and i will be your tootsie
wootsie if you leave st louis meet me in the air
and all that