II

by Stephen A. Rozwenc

ha ha ha
your mind caught in your zipper
like a mask without a flipper without a flipper
like a hip hop stripper
lap prancing on some honky tonk bar Howdy Doody
her oxycodone swabbed medulla oblongata prima stigmata
sea shell oracle
that unmentionable FEMALE identity
slides into his side pocket
to check his ID
to find out what KIND of death
is appropriate for his ravenous life
and how much he’ll PAY to keep it their secret
form of worship


we’re in Key West NOW baby
we’ve got ALL the new labels
Jose Cuerveo humping Jack Daniels
bulb pink Elvis flashing le petit mal in go-go boots
surgically implanted Marilyn Monroe post-op bee-bop
papa hemingway los cojones laundered brains
your tired your poor your huddled dildo stores
hail Mary Natasha Halenka Treblinka
1,000’s of Russian Italian Irish Cuban Israeli
hymen fairy tales
pierced belly buttons selling T-shirts and trinkets by day
squirming on their sex slave backs by night
in some cocaine homo sapiens Greek revival sugar shack
owned by the photo-electric gun runner
full of grace
we’re in Key West NOW baby
where good and evil have dressed up as sex and death
to mate with a street corner
and
O
yeah
that
frizzy
voiced
Mandingo
Mau-mau
mulatto
transcontinental
concubine
plucking
her
sooty
toes
like corn row strings of rain
as
she
reclines
against
a
toenail
red
fire
hydrant
in her luxury hotel street suite
she’s
our
incest
bred
junk
bond
virgin queen statue lady
of liberty
releasing
the
suicide
fantasy
death
sacrament
of an entire culture
that
can’t
wait
to
die
and knows just HOW
she’ll
do
it