Sunday, April 26, 2009

Lesbos



Lesbos

“You know what
lies are for”
—Sylvia Plath
“Lesbos,” Ariel

Viciousness—in the Tea Room
The passengers—hiss and moan
It’s all a bad—Hollywood movie
Minneapolis—Mon Amour

Senator Spud—from Idaho
Such a hopeless—pathological liar
Sitting on a commode—between flights
Looking down—at the bathroom floor

It’s a pretty pink—linoleum
Stalls nailed to—cinderblock walls
Where you can—cry and puke
And forget—you’re a Beltway Man

BJ’s are so—very tacky
The man next door—faceless
Such pretty—polished wing-tops
A lonely executive—on the make?

Maybe he’s—a traveling salesman
I could eat him—that’s for sure
Sex is like—a pearl-handled pistol
One motherlode—at a time

I’ve off to—Boise City
To attend—a Rotary Convention
Meanwhile—my secret life
The busy—Minneapolis Airport

Gee baby—you’re special
Can you get it—underneath
The partition—I can only bend
Down so far—to strangle it

Once I was—a handsome man
Now I’ve got—bad hemorrhoids
My shiny head—bald as a cue-ball
I sold my soul—to the Lobbyists

My blue silk suit—and tie
Makes me look—so acceptable
Whitey—a man of means
But I’m really—down & dirty

I play toesy—between flights
I’ve got this—ball & chain
Bad habit—anonymous sex
My constituency—so cumly

I’m so sick—of crummy Idaho
Mashed potatoes—French fries
Potato salad—Hash browns
It’s hard being—a Senator

Fluorescent lights—glare
Rolls of toilet paper—spin
I’m so fat—I can’t even
Wipe my fat ass—anymore


Later during—Interrogation
The cute young—airport cop
Shrugs and says—“So what?”
When I mention—SPQR!!!

I hate my—dirty fingernails
I’ve got a history—of enjoying
Secret affairs—in Tea Rooms
Congressional aides—titter!!!

The smog—of busy airports
Jet lag—and voyeurismo
Sometimes I—stay overnight
At the local—No Tell Motel

Money talks—they say
Bullshit walks—they tell me
I’m just—an old Wrinkle Queen
A Foggy Bottoms—Has Been

I can’t smoke—cigarettes
On jet flights—high above
But down here—on my knees
I huff & puff—fat Cuban cigars

My life—an everyday Lobotomy
The only way—to forget things
But hurry up—please
My flight’s—about to leave

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