Pompadoured

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Las Vegas Breakfast Buffet:

July 13, 2005

red lips cracking over ice cubes
in the faces of old men; old cashmere
sandpaper buffet sausages and big waffles
and varicose crepes slouching lever-hagged
over and over over bar bar cherries bar

bar cherries bar line; blistering
into, out of comp filled sequined
breasts and shining starred ass-cracks,
the big bucket melodies that rain down
ahses from lcd screens, rain lcd rain

lcd rainbows of glistening bacon
stream over glass and machine,
over gilded eyes into light bulb
barring pupils into cherry gobs
of cold red sugary sleaze, red

comments
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I'm tired of being this serious with my imagery, even if this is a rehash. It works for the dudes printing the books, but seriously, where's my tragicomedy?

Give me an idea or two, I need a break from thinking.

- Gene / July 13, 2005 8:22 AM

here's my redux of this poem:

homo homo fag fag,
three-dollar bill queer fag
queeny mcfagsalot
rides his queer train in to
butt sex land.

- rio / July 13, 2005 10:43 AM

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