joylicious

(So I dreamed last night about a horrid bus ride and a drunken Mick Jagger impersonator that looked more like Dee Snyder)

 
Marching ahead of the pinstriped-parade

almost binary enough to be redundant

passengers penguin down the isle

checkerboarding into our spaces at arms-lengths’s

same old silly-squawk—all I ever hear these days

the ramblings of a sunstroke

a bus-stop philosopher

sparking ideas into car-crashes,

baby-on-board,

sputtering his wet gossip of press-on nails,  

clapping at holy-water-father petting pool-boys,

such tepid froth foaming up

do you need a sippy-cup or a syllable-bib?

spewing sour onions and vinegar

without brushing your tongue?

took too many Big-gulps of powdered-cheese, I see,

more gum-smacking emotional ping-pong?

still you monkey-sling this intentional gibberish?

cumdumpstering everyone’s evening like this.

pounding my temples free of incense, of any sense,  

Dr. Drunk-fucker’s scalpel-words jabbing his

dumb-guy-finger-in-my-cake

soon I’ll be begging for the electric chair,

a real “cheer-up, buddy, least ya’ be dead soon”

finger-painting GOODBYE’s

and lustful S.O.S.’s

to the last lifeguards of these sordid trashbins

on the now extinct sidewalks of urbanis domestica

your paltry gotten deeds spilled wearily into my lap

blaming inside-outed-pockets are we?

or is it those swollen lips

whistling slippery with stolen whiskey?

Red-eyes suddened so serious

see? you shouldn’t’ve shouted your shame all over me

M.S. staggering under the weight of all that liquid-courage

Mick Jaggering those hands on hips,

just another leather-livered jerk

my judgments on sharp eyes

keep me at arm’s length, 

instead I knead at the muscles

horseshoeing on the backs of biceps

the ones itching to give hims a hug, 

singing half a note to half a word to half a song

but you staged it all

at the rear exit door

that sloppy, sarcastic, swaggering

romancing vague pity from your captive audience

and signaling your stop between nose wrinkles

when you shook the shuttle

you let us look at you

and all I can remember

is this indescribable

“(                 )-ness”

twisted within each of us