| Maman Neigho was frightened by Hawaiians,
|
| When all the veins ran out.
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| When too much bone structure went missing,
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| She thumbed the galleon Cacafuego.
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| Forsook the eyebrows climbing
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| Into greasy black hairlines.
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| Narcrotic leis,
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| Yanked down around the melianomed ankles.
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| Their putrid petals dropping,
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| Erasing the white shoes,
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| Like a face being eaten
|
| By a jungle.
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| Slabs of steam tables
|
| Whiffing of onions and roses.
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| Haunted Jacuzzis churning.
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| All night the native bods squealing Bflat,
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| Like choirs of pigs
|
| Seeking revenge for stolen insulin.
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| Blip,
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| Boost,
|
| Bust,
|
| Brother.
|
| That’s how we copped a final,
|
| Reached this city without sound.
|
| Everywhere you turn,
|
| Bunkers of rubber hoses pronging
|
| Up,
|
| Off the city’s floor.
|
| Chirp,
|
| Chime,
|
| Clambaked,
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| Cups.
|
| Don’t step on that rotting tartare.
|
| Just might bust your conk.
|
| Might lay your racket.
|
| Early black ickaroo.
|
| It’s dense. |
| Tense.
|
| Unseen through, pound for pound.
|
| All the people, on the corners,
|
| Pushing each other around.
|
| Humping like buggers.
|
| Touching like muggers.
|
| Pushing each other around.
|
| Adepocere in a zoot,
|
| Sloshing,
|
| Karat,
|
| Ballooning down the street.
|
| Thousand kilos simpy.
|
| Forty stone send.
|
| Tips his skypiece,
|
| Come to weigh me up.
|
| But I’m toned.
|
| Gut bucket.
|
| Ground grippers ready to trilly.
|
| Layin' down iron.
|
| Togged to the bricks…
|
| SHHH…
|
| Let’s add a little shade.
|
| Try something apart from the hogshair.
|
| While Pope Julius affects his red slippers,
|
| Let Michelangelo tip-toe around
|
| In his dogskin boots.
|
| SHHH…
|
| The powder on a chalky bosom rises
|
| And hangs in the air.
|
| Clouds crawling through protracted blue,
|
| Like souls of insects.
|
| From threshing haze,
|
| The scent of spider lilies.
|
| Sam P’s
|
| Bagged decapitation rotates
|
| To the ocean floor,
|
| It’s nostrils
|
| Are twitching and sniffing.
|
| Gabriel’s, gravy,
|
| Got your glasses on,
|
| Gate.
|
| There’s some mezz glimmers,
|
| A gammon V8.
|
| Twisters in the slammer.
|
| Frisking their whiskers,
|
| Till peola dim,
|
| On the chime of black.
|
| It’s dense. |
| Tense.
|
| Unseen through, pound for pound.
|
| Scratch and Jesus, on the corner,
|
| Pushing each other around.
|
| Shoving like sluggers.
|
| Touching like muggers.
|
| Pushing each other around.
|
| Snapping their caps.
|
| Slidin' their jibs.
|
| Lampin' the brees.
|
| Drapin' the trees.
|
| Oops, pardon the elbow.
|
| Lets just shift you over here.
|
| Sorry,
|
| I’m so clumsy.
|
| Take that accidently in the bollocks for a start.
|
| Seven brights jumped in port,
|
| Reached this city without sound.
|
| Kopasetic, on the corners,
|
| Pushing each other around.
|
| Everybody on the corners,
|
| Pushing each other around.
|
| Joe below,
|
| Hincty dicty.
|
| Slipped the pounders.
|
| Fews and two.
|
| Knock me.
|
| Boot me,
|
| Down in the land of darkness.
|
| Sweet Leilani,
|
| Heavenly flower |