'59 Eldorado

[the mingo]

poetry - bum form & back birthed
literatic porn

i ain't packin' 'nough ass for this shit
real poetry is the living of a life
but somebody is always pushin' somethin'
somebody always thinks breathin' ain't enough
somebody always wantin' to
stick somethin' in your eyes

writers sit around with their pants off
then say if you look
you're a dirtbag perv

well ain't that a game for the ages

and if you're low enough
and dirty enough
and shameless enough
hell, then you can even make money at it
real coin of the realm
just like a hooker makes

buy a book it's like turning over
a rock to see what livin' underneath
all that stuff there scattering off
tryin' to crawl away fast as can
from the sudden surprise of light

not that writing can't move you
it can
because that's the kind of world
this one is

i just can't hold with all the
fluff & fuss & flutter about it

words can & do move you

but so can a '59 Eldorado

[saw]

cruisin' down the page in your caddy, mingo.......ah yes, the complexities that are tangled in the written word.....open for embrace or attack.....had some real metal in them 59's......chrome bumpers too !........who cared about the price of gas...
write it all down...then turn it over....like a BIG engine.....

[the mingo]

nobody even thought the price of gas in those days not my father not your father not our granddaddies either gas across our country from 28 to 33 cents a gallon coast to coast in '59 and those days long gone ain't coming back this way ever and the writin' i gotta spear it once in awhile and loose its guts tear them high places down pull the poles to the ground just to remember how easily it's done gotta remember the things of true value there squirmin' at my feet just so's my fun stays clean. it's just like walkin' the frontier keepin the grass mowed and eat my lunch too.

thx saw, and see you.