The sirens are back
 They’re aching in their lonely nights
     You saw the picture of the burning dock
 Now step away
    Step away
         Down a path of foolishness
 They tumble and tussle
 Barking for corn dogs and freedom
      Some of us hunker down
     And watch tv
And wonder what to eat next
     Lamb chops
 Tacos
   A bowl of cereal
       Then we drink whiskey
But not too much
 Just enough
To ease the pain
 

Mired
 In myriad
 Mirrors
Mirthfully
   Mendacious
 
     *********
 Stage right
   The fat man gets
 A blow job
   From the aging poet
 He’s a stranger now
 Wandering the Pentecostal Highway
 Near St Joe
    He wears a mask of Zippy the Pinhead
      And only eats hamburgers
 Some say
   He could have been in the major leagues
  Others say
  Quaaludes

Some creature
 Forged
 A nascent path
To the avenue of reliquaries
    Stood softly
        Bent his arm around
       A pole
 And leaned forward
     Waiting like a
Child for an open candy

Stymied
   And sturgid
 Reading thru olde
Poemes
 And adding e’s to
Wordes
    Woe
My tidal forbearance
 Woe to plague and plaque
That coats my teethe
     Plague on you sweet
 Darling
Of the purple coat
    Left on a blanket
 Somewhere near Astoria
Where Josh
   Says the Bumblebee tuna
 Factory
 Ruined everything