Thursday, June 01, 2006

1955

The eventual reemergence of my capacity for logic
And this stiff spine, oh Robertson, it's you!
I'm crustacean for lack of a pygmy distortion
And that's how the ass gets what the ass wants --
Nearly everyone has complained of a mistaken
Telephone booth encounter with the light of day.

Nothing goes k'boom like Nothing! And so Buddha
Drops trou for the eclectic sun wind trees,
Time to renew your New Yorker subscription, Buddha!
And Fanta flowing from the crotches of elms

Oh what is this feeling running corridors backstage
In my heart, fighting past Sasquatch and mochi-
Serving furries in for a sketch on an DOA comedy show,
Out of my way, humorous costumes! on second thought
Come with me, quickly, to the surgical theater --

She is prepped and ready, is dreaming in fact
Of a soothing mint candy, its cooling effects.