songanddancegirl

down by the sea where the watermelons grow

the people look hungry  deadeyed  +scallopish

except for one server named Angel  who told me

i believe in energy fields  and when i was 6  i told

my parents  there’s a healing dome over St. Pete’s    it protects us

it does feel strangely peaceful here   to the point of mortis

but how to explain the  hungrylumpen +gnashing?  who

otherwise look well fed + largely bitchtitted    (perhaps a line has been crossed?)

fetid porta-potties strewn for the hungry  by a company

called   The Throne  tapeworms fester  all making it difficult

to reconcile the bucolic

or the cursing sailors

with lobsterblood

smeared on shanks

i found myself being eyed by large men with hungry eyes

and women  forlorn+deshabille   i came here to take the cure

and to watch husband #3  rise up from the radiation machine

but we all know

he walks

on fuckingwater

___

Summer 2025  ..Sailor Jerry please come for me already..

of ravines raleighs cameros gremlins + uncle grinch who stole big time

my bros + i  embarked on the river of no return  1950’s suburbia

no open road  not an easy trajectory to lighting out for the territories

real estate dreams lost+found+lost  mobsters  social climbing grotesques

one threw her ratty furstole on the bed  as she florence nightengaled our

cancered mother  i threw her out on her cauliflower ear  husband clubfooted

+mean   crass cousins everywhere   Snopes redux

then there were 3   our elders in the crypt     we don’t stop for nobody  in our van

sits  Ali  Killebrew  Miles  Ella  +Louis too  bones a creakin  JMA tells Ali to put up

his dukes    c’mon float like a butterfly sting like a bee..  

(all the while stabbing Mr. Ali with a pen)

Ali has wings   father’s old horse Tex does too   we sit with our peeps whenever we

can   no one knows about the staircase to the well below our crypt  where racetrack

people cavort   +mother lights up the occasional reefer

a plaintive verse or 2   i am a man of constant sorrows   drifts thru damp earthy air

big bro weeps over unused cleats  he regales us with glorydayrant  +unspeakable

horrors  of his last 78 hrs   then the open road all the way

gunning his silvershadow in the valley of the shadow of death  he fears no mo

be careful not to reignite old mythos  leave the dead on the levee  where ancient

gators get ready  to meet their maker   hey kids  leave those dead alone

__

Summer 2025   ..here’s to the autumn winds boyce..

different strokes

there’s an old heavy breasted woman sitting across

from me  she looks saintly  her stigmata  drips green

probably leftover kale smoothie

blissed out people bleed veggies here  white robed

+hottentot aproned  we are after all at a Nordic retreat

in the wilds of PEI

later on  a girl  all orgasmic whimpering   under the

frigid showerhead   i wonder if this is secret lingus-code

her white skin jiggles  as salt is rubbed on moist thighs

juicy pink mole on buttcheek whimpers too  it sounds

like my name !   i edge closer   headlock ensues  by George

i don’t think i’m in Kansas   anymore

__

Summer 2025 ..what i did on my summer vacation..

Freda☠️Sarah☠️Ape

in a feverdream  3 women on a deathbed  whispering

entwined-eternity  grandmothermotherdaughter   spooning

poet  their witness   their seed   a sacred duty

wouldn’t have missed it   for anything        (who will be with me?)  

poet-daughter still kicking

everything

first deathbed  at 5 yrs  my lizard in hand   72 yr old bubba-Sarah

stroking  eyes flailing   more recently at 65 yrs   presided over

mother’s   Freda 98   an old bro in tow   call me sister morphine

decimate   horror

the breathing-vigil

curling fingers   the dampness

the Reaper-ed peace

Freda enwombed in Sarah   Ape enwombed in Freda

some birds   a lost civilization   +a trumpet   entombed

in Ape    a clarion call to arms   let my people go

Ape: what would your mother think of me?  

Freda: she’d get down on her knees  and worship you

i’m still here girls

the last surviving

Russiandollface

__

…she was herself…i have never seen anyone

who reminded me of her…how she stood…

what she said…but where has she gone?

now and again at night…or in the street…there she is

beautiful…emphatic…lighting our random lives…👑

(Virginia Woolf   Moments of Being  1908)

Summer 2025 …some Russiandolls…

one more cup of coffee fore i go

father looked broken   but he was not   even at the end

especially then   a blue-eyed jesus  rising up from the

balcony chair  (not his first resurrection)   LET’S GO!

back to the parental deathbed   who lies there now?

listening to the murmurings of Frances+Lee   April in Paris

One more once    old wine in old bottles   dig it?

you cannot measure a life by it’s despairs  you must look at

the moments of decimation  as pure+radiant transformation

thru the dark woods   when the caughtbird transcends

smokes another cig   shoots a rough tequila  marches

through used car lots  to a kind of nirvana   only to be

found   in desire

fellas  the end is nigh

i strongly suggest

a wild +cautionless

trajectory

__

July 2025  ..now go forth +multiply..   dig it?