Wednesday, March 18, 2009

thought dream 031609.2

We cleaned his clock, we clobbered his clutch.
The radio kept playing the same damn song,
so we tore out the wires and put in a sterno can.

I'm dancing. Look, I'm dancing.

The captain hobbled down to the hospital
and performed open-heart surgery

on himself. He's a man's man.
A man strong engough to can-can
without irony.

He ordered me to take a dive.
I took a dive.

We're all very respectable here.
But no one knows what we do.

We cleaned his chickens, we clobbered his couscous,
we calculated his calories.

I'm not at liberty. I'm not even sure.

Take out the sterno can and replace it
with the chicken.

See if you can get any reception with the chicken.

I'm dancing. Look, I'm dancing.

What's wrong with this music?
It's all flabby. This music smells greasy
and lowdown. The chicken's not working.

Damn radio.

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