Saturday, May 29, 2010

mr. crankypants memos a wannabeat

my dear young wannabeat:

not that your boyish cock is not real gone
but here's a purple pose from rewound gone:

our acid faces dripping waxed and wounded
in the cut glass crusted dusted mirror
before you were a throbbing mucous dollar shot
on a spilling thrill to your mommy egg

yelling

and yellowed
and scrambled
and bubbled in the raving dawn.

Neal would milk his chrome cruise
into your trim virgin caddy knot

zippo your butt and slam his throttle

until the stars rolled back in your head

then howl akimbo at your awkward whimper
elbowed and thighed and posed

mad chattering the moon on further
to the happy squirt of dawn's early fix.

in summary,
a pale echo of his mad moon wail,
your map is cute but cuts no edge-

his crackle would split your skull

wistfully yours,

mr. crankypants

p.s.
an old man in a dry month, etc.

13 comments:

Old 333 said...
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Old 333 said...
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Old 333 said...
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Old 333 said...

@Gerry: Thanks for an awesome fire-me-up for the morning. I really, really enjoyed that.

P

Gerry Boyd said...

@Old 33 and 1/3 (or is it just half of the Beast?): Thanks. You sure have a lot of energy for someone who includes "old" in their moniker. Since it's your morning, is that pre or post-caffeine? Great pun on Lawrence and I got the Pink Floyd reference too so I guess we're vibrating at around the same frequency, huh? LOL.

Old 333 said...

Cool! Hi, Gerry. I'm half-old and half-beats. I means beast. I gave Lawrence a proper shell partly in memoriam to Douglas Adams' brilliant observation of the fate of almost all life: "A whelk's chance in a supernova" - or at least I recall my head being thereabouts at that second. Energy is mine on loan - manic cycle (i'm schizotypal bipolar). No caffeine. Lasts about two weeks usually. I'll pay, but pills are beginning to stabilize me (new to treatment). The 333 moniker originally was just a quick mental flick towards Pohl and Kornbluth's fictional ultimate stock-market company, "Old 333" (Old 333: off 1/3!), from their novel 'Gladiator-at'Law'. I also have some numerological obsessions. Over time, the name/number has added a few meanings, and come to feel fairly permanent and comfy.

Now I have an old snatch of punk in my head "six/six eight!/The neighbour of the Beast!.

In the real world, I'm thirty-eight, and feeling a bit tired, but finally committed to my work for good. In the other sense of committed, a)i dint do it! and b)They did kind of mention that at first. But I've reacted well to the pills.

Hey, thanks for getting back to me. I LOVE your profile pic, btw....

PG/333

Jenny Enochsson said...

So cutting and sharp, Gerry. The beats were like cool rockstars; no wonder why there are so many wannabeats. This great poem made me giggle.

Gerry Boyd said...

@OLD: Hang in there Babe. The best is yet to come.

@Jenny: Giggles are good. My favorite reaction, actually. It's all just a funny game to me.

Eileen T O'Neill - Written Words said...

Gerry,
This is a much better Sunday read, than the morning newspapers here in UK!!!

I enjoy your roving words.

Best wishes,
Eileen

Megan Duffy said...

I was "laughing out loud" as well. Thank you.

Gerry Boyd said...

@Eileen: Thanks.

@Megan: Good. This was an FOS exclusive. Me? Cranky? No way!

PO Johnson said...

It’s sharp and darn cranky.

Gerry Boyd said...

@PO: Yeah, at my advanced aged I feel I've earned the right to be cranky. Where's my dinner?