Tag: music

Poems

JoAnn’s Ass

You could create a civilization

around her ass.

You could solve all the world’s

problems with her ass.

Defeat bigotry and fascism,

cure cancer,

heal our planet,

save the children,

bring back Jesus,

and undo capitalism.

Yes, I would do anything that ass

were to ask of me.

And her ass is really just the

cherry on top of an incredible

performer, musician, and

good person.

This ass belongs to JoAnn,

a punk rock vixen,

lead singer of Hen & The Cocks

from lovingly weird Denton, Texas.

You have read that correctly;

Denton, Texas is home to the

world’s greatest ass.

Poems

Become Blues Singer

God asked me
one day when Peter was off in the fields
enduring mosquito bites,
“Why don’t you fall in love with men?”
And I answered,
“Because, men are not made in your image.

Women are.”

I taught God a lesson.
Now he brings wedding gifts,
turtledoves,
to the lesbian weddings.
I bring silk and tongue in the failure
of my appearance.
And then I walk off, continue to walk with
a head of brown hair and
brown facial hair
and brown pubic hair.

Now, God has taught me a lesson.
I must become blues singer,

love my guitar.

Poems

Faux Paella

There’s something called a faux paella.
I make it when nobody’s looking.
I take my girlfriend down to the beach.
Yeah yeah yeah.
The faux paella . . . fuh fuh fuh,
faux paella!

It sits on a window seal in a dish.
The cops on the street look up at it.
The encyclopedia doesn’t dare speak of it.
The faux paella.

Now after it’s been cooked the process is finished.
You fake what’s been done in a pan – in a pot.
The priest is restrained and also well beaten.
O holy lake of fire.
The Holy Spirit jumps up out of it.
Toss it in an oven in between breathing.
Some people spill it on the beach.
Faux paella.
Yeah yeah yeah.
Faux paella!

The police are here to arrest all of you.
Faux paella!
Oh yes, faux paella!

I gnash my teeth and bash out windows.
Oh my Lord,
not again, not in my friend’s car,
the bombs are loud, the smoke is blue.
The faux paella!

News of a new war.
The faux paella!
The economy’s not doing good.
That’s the faux paella!
Arm the national police force
with the faux paella.

The faux paella . . . fuh fuh fuh,
faux paella!

Poems

A Lesbian

When you leave,
when you’re away,
off sailing on aquamarine seas,
I think of your ruby sculpted
lipstick and
listen to Neko Case
by myself, alone in the human
darkness.

Does this make me a lesbian?