Breath of an Orangutan, and Twice the Fur
pick a plum
grow a harvest of hallelujahs
and save me some
sojourn your sour-burned tongue
relax and act young
fly by the motorcycle store
and over the orange grove bums
the take-me-mores and the hollywood blood
past heaps of ankle-biters
and side-show detractors
you’re howling at the moon
just like a dictator
the next your eating
steel cherries and
talking ‘bout actors.
imagine the sight of this
through the eyes of a young zebra
after knowing what we did
to the leos, capricorns, cancers
what we did to the lone
still slinging fruit and dreading december?
still wheeling loose and drawing rivers?
ever need a second third hand or an extra lever?
ever need nothing
and nothing was all you were getting?
ever take home Ulysses S. Grant
then found out it was a pretender?
ever need a win for morale
but would take an easy surrender?
Answer as soon as you please
Take your songs
I don’t know ‘em
I don’t want ‘em
- if you ever sang one
it’s has been thoroughly
sincere salutations from the south
your pasta fryer
- Wild B. Cotton.