Blown by the Sunby Wee William Williams ![]() April 4, 2005 The night air like a cheese, perfumed with sea water
A blocky, leaky, laggy cheese coating us all We the three of us tramp through Panama City Selling fake insurance policies for a dollar to The tourists The cops roust us here and there, upon catching sight of seersucker suits A tighty, sticky, stocky kind of faded brown material Each of us is having the time of his life, or the other's Our last night in this foreign city before we ship out To Vietnam I remember the fire-hanging hair, weaved together on the head Of the bouncy, busty, bubbling night club stripper She seemed as if I had known her a dozen years or more Like I'm the kind of person who would forget my Own sister I ignite, stepping out into the dark city, with a bursting ejaculation of life A creamy, glowy, semeny outburst of the soul The three of us, friends from children, sharing a final night Before we're raped and swept away by the bony fingers of time The grave Would we ever meet again, my eyes seem to ask, these gentle souls and I? The chummy, brotherly, buddies of my youth and I? If this night scatters under the eye of the sun, driving us into tomorrow Will the foreign wars and cruelty of men butcher us and erase us from History? This poem is to these paper cutouts in my past, loved faces who might have dispelled Like wispy, smoky, ghostly incense that may or may not have ever burned By chance we meet again at a high school reunion of all places, go Barnacles And they sob at my poetic recount, though everyone I read it for found the semen part A little too nauseating Quote of the Day“It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that's completely impossible by the laws of physics and laughable to every sane person.”-Mark Twaint Fortune 500 CookieThis is the week you finally snap. All those years spent strengthening your middle finger and thumb are really going to pay off big-time, playa. Try keeping your dehydrated mashed potato flakes and your dandruff collection in different-colored boxes this week, just in case that last date ever comes back. Oh, that autobiography you wrote in l33t? Yeah dude, nobody can read that shit. This week's lucky porn cameos: Jenna Jameson in the pilot of that awesome new Hoarders spin-off, Whoreders, Big Bird in Larry Bird: Big Bird, The Ghost of John Holmes in everything else you watch because you burnt that shit into your plasma, dumbass, and …wait, Ron Jeremy in your wedding video? WTF?Try again later. Top 5 Worst States
Motherfucker Goose There was an old woman who lived in a shoe she had so many children she didn't even have to work I had to support them all because she's a liar Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard to get her poor dog a bone I porked the old crow ... (3/7/05) Quadrophonia Love is a many-splendored thing with tentacles. "Ding-dong, the witch has snacks, that Rax hires blacks and Jack hates jacks. Which old witch? Fool, how many witches you know? Shiiiit." Felt manacles felt fantastical when I was... (2/28/05) Popular Road I rode a horse on a winding path And saw before me, though I'm bad at math The path became two roads ahead One rocky and coarse, a bitch to tread The safer course, apparent to sight Was clean-cut and easy, a porridge "just right" With... (2/7/05) |