“DADDY SAID DON’T DANCE WITH THE DEVIL”​

​

“vexilla regis prodeunt inferni…”

…and that’s me.

 

 

I wear tiara & cowl & big S for ‘de Sade’,

Drag man is bad man, my wardrobe’s

Always been questionable, give me Marilyn

Mask, my lipstick superpower, platinum

Weave, spinning like amazon princess,

 

Let me love You like a woman, turn Your

Neck into postcard, enough smooch stamps

To go around, chroma coated rasp, diamond

Cut prayer to Butch president, dancing in

Front of mirror, can’t tell if lights are on,

 

Even way You watch me is sex, every spin

An orgasm, Chubby Checker twist until

Climax clarity barely in rear window,

Scorpio rising over and over again in Injun

Cycle-city, all kids shout ‘please please me!’

 

Isley brothers & sisters & John Lennon losing

His voice as Ferris frees funk from 250 years

Of WASP repression, Rooneys can’t catch Us,

Drug is the chase & blood from my teeth on

Your bottom lip in the backseat,

 

Nobody wants to understand, this cruiser’s

Moving too fast down left shoulder, Your hand

Between brassiere strap & my sunburnt back,

Staring match with unrecognized reflection,

Hell-tyrant travesti sets other faces on fire,

 

 

“is that you John Wayne? is this me?”

…but I stay this time to sharpen my fangs.

​

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​

“RIVER RHINE”

 

Two olive skinned men but their hats aren’t

The same so you can tell em apart.

They each have a book to go to Heaven with,

But they made sure the words were different

So God couldn’t write em up for plagiarism.

I snuck behind and switched the books when

Nobody was looking…

​

The Danube is cool I guess, but this is the one

Err’body loses their minds over: Napoleon & NATO

& Julie too (but we’ll get to him later)

This thing that flows through the Old World

Like seconds & stolen glances & shopping ads,

This thing that always has, will always be.

Water & wind become tape recorder, a recursive

Loop for humanity’s top two preferred pastimes:

A great fight + a greater fuck.

 

Reds & Blues put together hypotheticals,

Prepping to pull the curtains down just as fast

As it God took to hang up in the first place.

What’s the deal with bozos & bombs? All the

Sticks & all the stones were given to goodwill,

The world’s making war not love and none of it’s fair.

Rush-In Fools stop to see how the Kraines fly,

Wise men & angels nowhere to be found, so of

Course the Great White West gets what it wants!

 

Elliot Smith’s been dead for years and they’re still

Going on about Either/Or: always about dis & never

Time for dat, eight billion conflict engines coded to

Caveman binary bullshit, a mushroom cloud dawn for

This manichean-maggedon. If I can hold hands with

Some geezer at church, I’m sure they can too.

 

I want to see the children wake up again. And smile at

The night sky. And realize that the stars were theirs

The whole time.

​

Two olive skinned men are now shouting. They don’t

Remember what the words mean, but they’ll still wrist

Weep over the pages in a heartbeat. I’d like to throw

Both of em in the back of a Pontiac Firebird, just to

See what would happen. Put on some Marvin Gaye or

Lana to get em going. Who says they can’t let off a

Little steam with a couple rounds of tongue hockey…

​

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​

"LAW"

 

“…auctoritas non veritas facit legem.”

​

It was a very strange occurrence.

Normally when someone uninvited

Is in your home, we here in the ‘Land

Of the Free’ tend to go for the quickdraw.

But I was reaching for the pen & paper,

And they had both of my wrists.

​

They said no more Future.

They said no more Fiction.

​

*Trickster’s in the cage.

*Bueller’s in detention.

*The handcuffs were made of Kryptonite.

*And The Box was shrinking by the second.

 

So I told them:

“sure, let me work within your limits…”

And I wrote them a Report:

 

MEMORANDUM

6/4/2024

TO: BUGHOUSE BUREAU

FROM: PARTY BOY

SUBJECT: ‘THE LAW IN PRACTICE’

 

THERE WAS ONCE A BOY WHO WANTED TO SPEAK TO GOD. BUT DIE AUTORITÄT SAID HE WASN’T ALLOWED TO. BECAUSE GOD WAS DEAD AND NEVER COMING BACK. THE BOY NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT GOD AGAIN. BECAUSE HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO. BECAUSE IT’S WRONG. BECAUSE DIE AUTORITÄT SAID SO.

 

You know how cockroaches are.

They ate that shit up automatically.

But then they wanted more, and I had

To stop myself from laughing. It seemed

They’d forgotten they weren’t the only

Ones who choose when to come back.

 

To tell a story is to tell a lie, to make

Something up from nothing. I’m God

When I put ink to page, so I told them:

 

“sure, let me work within your limits…”