Wig caps and Spontaneous Control Issues

We pull synthetic hilights over my eyes
Linger just a bit too long
To remind, as a reminder
This is not real
Nor is permanency an option
In our little game of war
We tease about cut puppet strings
As they tighten, closer,
Cut off circulation to the wings
Which itch to break free
Throw off this wig
And disappear


Erotic musical creaks of the '91 Corolla
The American Innocents

It's sexy knowing you can go
The fredom to just go and drive
Away from this and that and then and them
On The Road revisited
In the spirit of Ginsberg: The Early Years
Or a new remix-
Free to find drugs, booze and sex
And free to ignore them?
We are the American Innocents
We drive our safe Japanese cars
And gripe about the cheapest gas in the world
Throw out enough leftovers to feed a family for a week
Trailing across the state
Leaving a tale of glistening naivete and fumes
Romantic dreams of poverty financed by mommy's credit card
As we slowly creep closer to the real world


Black Market Stupidity in Bloom

I want a tank for Christmas.
The drums outside are whispering-
The glamour of power and patriotism
Gives the skin a nice 'healthy glow'
That is best accented by a tank.
Join up, and we'll even let you ride one
For free! On us!
No pesky waiting around for December
Santa and his elves are working year round on a military contract
So it'd be a little late, anyway.
A tank will help me live out my video game fantasies
I can run over nameless, faceless bad guys
In arid deserts
.but of course they're all single orphan infidels
who wouldn't be missed or counted
Because to actually kill a real person?
Well, patriotism or no, it's against my religion.