JUST PLUG ME IN
TO MARDI GRAS
Jumpstart the basketball seedlings, pull down
the girls' grass skirts, start the bonfire with these
old encyclopedias. Throw me some crazy beads.
-
Melons and crackheads and darling little girls.
Packrats and boy scouts and scribblers, and those
daring young men on their flying trapezes. That's
all I ever see, and this crowd makes me a dullard.
-
Nothing's left in the treasure chest where the golden
chips once were - some big nigger shouting down
his 'ho, a Philippine guy trying to call his distant home.
There's lava at the window sash and flames are licking
the garage. Bring the bear here. Leave the fragrance,
and please just go. I want to be alone again.
-
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.
Has not anyone has ever asked why?
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