Tuesday, October 19, 2004

Deep Martini

Castaways on an hors d'oeuvre
in the middle of foreign country
Quietly he considered that literature was
Reft at the light I thought I heard
San Francisco looming like a giant eyeball
Toupee against toupee the bald face-off
Unless you up the check we’re washing dishes
Just vote for the best dick for the job
Why not cup your hands for catching sound
Xylophones purring, not the sound of helicopters
your diploma reads ‘Master of One’
zealous to pinochle another ambassador
Don’t forget to bring yourself
Entirely up to you whether you breathe
Fortunately we have a little more time
circling above us on television
Helping or hurting friend
all a part of the biosphere
Isosceles was the word he could spell and then
Jostled off the stage among losers
Keep your damn hands off my
Look you’re only here to get laid
Voodoo particulars make you right for the job
Maui isn’t the only island [the blockhead shrugged]
Northwest of no particulars deep in martini
Oreos were the death of him she said, buried
Potpourri or little pile of shit


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