(hot vicious beastie breath
snacking on my backoneck hairs
i gotta run faster)
here we are on the earthface
smooth and rumpled
slick and smelling of meteors
too many vents to the core
too many towers of demonsmoke
i danced on the pants table at target
i got the cheers for the weird
i got thrown out by security
even though i showed my license
which says i’m fourty one
and damned well permitted to dance
on the pants table at target
stuck to the hot tarmac
i whispered to winston churchill:
my father is josef goebbels
i was the child who survived
i bear the guilt and revenge together
i will be the better man
winston smacked down a brandy
whuffed a herd of potsmoke
and glaring down at me with red eyes
of the man who saved the world and said:
get up off the bloody ground
and get right back at it
now is not the time to dance on the table
first you must defeat the hun in you
then you must defeat the hun without you
then you must dance on the table
roll in the flowers my boy
sing strange hymns of the visitors
hug a cow hug a pig hug a chicken
and then strike with forknowledge
and full intent to remove yourself
from your line
you will be the one born of no-one
the mobius person the human event horizon
and far odder than i
(he smacked more brandy)
although i must say he said
there was the afternoon
at brighton
i did not dance on the pants table
but on the pantry
in the kitchen
of general ismay
and was cheered by all