DICK PALACE 3

SAY OUCH NOW THROUGH YOUR NOSTRILS

I ask, and I am asking, asked from the room beneath the room,

Asked in a voice the size of several:

HAVE YOU EVER PUT YOUR MONEY IN MUTUAL FUNDS?

My father once said, "Invest in ostrich, son."

My father was a dense sharecropper from South Central

Who sawed his dick off using fire in his sadder years

To have something with which he could barter for his lunch.

I ask, you scrunch-teeth motherfucker,

You superlative dinner roll of grim glee:

Have you ever ridden a bird? It's excruciating.

Know what else sucks? 1. Mostly you 2. My head collection

3. My impending sense of how everything gets fucked.

You know Lincoln failed, too, right?

Have you ever heard that story?

It was issued as a chapbook from a self-important independent press

And is filled with color and perspective

And lots of close-up shots of penetration.

Also, incredible darkness, ya dig?

I ask, do you have the necessary means to build a tank?

Are you considered a faggot? Will you wither?

We're okay then. I love the earth. I love animals.

Here's what I propose: A new car.

I'll buy us a Mitsubishi Burstanton AV3000x.

It’s a newer model, made from beard trimmings and titty milk.

It will be our offering, an acrid rain.

I'll ferment my respect for absolute dereliction and fine wine then. I swear.

The incredible tragedy of living comes while masturbating in the shower.

After the bad orgasm comes vast green valleys that go curdled in your head.

After valleys, we drink the ocean out from under the ocean liner.

I ask, please wait until then.

In the future, I'll save my mind and money by spanking others.

Oh, and coupons. Lots of coupons. Hear me out here,

order a McGriddle if you're desperate

And your mother’s disconnected the fax machines.

Find some peace, you cuntstink dick of a imploding summer.

I ask, think about Darfur over a regurgitated Gatorade and ask
again.

Imagine, in your heart, that someone is there,

Eating all the croutons off all the salads

That will from this day thenceforce soon exist.

"The absence of alternatives clears the mind

marvelously," Kissinger wooted

From the esplanade to a topless biker underwater.

That spring break in Cancun was beyond god.

It's all glitter, now. I love the earth. I love animals.

I ask, who else offers these things? Like ecstasy.

When you ask me, I'll tell you honestly. I've earned your love.

Picture Michael Jackson in 1983 at the 25th anniversary of Motown

And all the babies wedged under the concrete going Ga.

Picture us under a strobe light and fog and two middle-aged horses

Hid in the corner making out, kindly gyrating, hot hand action,

Until their crotches swell to fill the room.

Specifically, the earth, the animals and me.

Listen, we're all a little overextended now,

and none of us are worried in the slightest.