Ooooka!

When I am gaunt and pale your heart will flow down drainfloors for a man lamented in subway stations and a girl who was just a whore. A boy that played baseball diamonds, a blind boy, with a billfold, and a dream and a clothes hamperer full of locomotive steam. There were three twenties in the jukebox, by the time we came to lay. A full cheat spread of atomic bones and a girl all dressed in red. If you can’t figure out the rhythm to this, it’s how I found it along the way, make a great leap, into a brand new busy, and forget your tired dismay.
But giants are real folks, lets not forget that. I’ve been to Sheila’s tonight and she laughed me in my face. Made a laugh like none of our circle has heard in 15 years. Told me I was a stinking drunk, while she, drunkstunk, balanced on a balance beam. I wish your sweet side would come out right now. I need something to throw my left shoulder on, I’m off-balance and my sister hopes for a morning draw. The steers are rising and the scallops are in my bed. It sounds so good when you say scallops, once you get it in your head. I am a reactionary.
Your miles are money and mine are too, or honey. Got gas… will make it. You made it this far passing yourself as a salesman car. What of it jester, I once had a dog named lester. Your house is of immaculate proportions and I believe the party is there. Gatsby! Not to lead you on. It meant nothing. Hold your tongue, boy! Manner where it’s at. I make love with submarines and date an awful wretch.
More miles than money. I made out with queen of Memphis. He had a light and me a bucket and went off with a barrell of funny. I made it through that wilderness. Lost a bank card along the way. Which way to Union Station? I got heartsbeats and track meets and a whole cantata on the way. I got blue dreams and mad schemes and the sky gave way for you to hit dat shit.
Make a name for yourself in one book or another. Hollis is going to prison and me to the other side of the tracks. I’ve settled for untruth so long because truth is so slippy. Made you look. Took a typographical dream in my heart and made it mine.
I like your name. I like it a lot. I’ve tried to make endless anagrams. Your heart burning out, I’ll stir it with a fan. Late night over easy. A capital breeze sworn over easy. I’ll turn to the guy-faced dolls. Bitch them all and prepare the syrum. A word excercise for you and me. Can’t wait until, on that whole city. This whole land. Make Marxists out of rooftops, a tie above the ropes. A turn into the turnbuckle. Am I happy? Fuck yeah, I am happy.
Get out of the house. Embrace those dolls. It’s the best it can be. Watch out for the minor pause, and find something here with me.