BLUE COLLAR HOLIDAY
Warner Bros. Newest Thriller "Valentine" Anything I do will be an abuse of somebody's aesthetics. I index moccassins on the web. I used to translate Xenophon during the typhoons But now I live in "far-off" Chelsea where my god forsakes me Several times a day. They say social anxiety can hurt careers Though mostly I am suffering from intestinal complaint, ghetto-bred Inertia. "From the dark bastions of the UN, a sick flush." I read it in the papers, The New York Times. I fortify myself, douse my sushi with "liquid aminos" spray, Fly Lufthansa. And you're flying past in an Adirondack chair With soiled pubes & argon lighting -- a fluid mai tai Coursing through this land of nausea & bric-a-brac. Anglican & very high I am, the consort of a genuine Black Forest Paterfamilias -- the Bavarian Lift face & throat creme Splashed down in spermy smears, peals Of screaming laughter as an orchestra dressed in skivvies Accompanied a chorus of yodelling Alpine maidens... Skit night at Christine's & everything seemed a waitress In the throes of athletic love-making or centennial Valkyrie slumbers with you, indecently pink & tan like swatches or rarefied turkey burger & me shrinking beside you & your Nivea-slick skin "Really & truly I don't care what you do with me." So I put on my little Lederhosen & started to walk.