Yes GRINKEN MAN, WOAH-MAN, we bumble and fumble our way from BOBLIMPTOCK to GRINKEN TIME. HEAVING and SEETHING, we FALTER in the spaces between hummingbird breaths and toilet crab heartbeats.
WE SWAY from side to side in the fray, as TONGUE-BLASTERS and NICKLE-COMMIES toss urine bags at the cops and the National Guard troops turn the water canons on us.
REELING AND ROLLING, our ship of FATE moves CLOSER to that everlasting forgetfulness, stuck in the coiled spring and waiting for the Summer evening.
Tottering, we fall over …
Floundering, we run aground …
And OUR SHIP SHAPE MUSKRAT LOVERS GLARE at our silky hair and wonder, “is DAN using a new conditioner?”
FRET NOT BOBLIMPTONAUT, your courage powers the MOON TRAIN and you will go INSANE when the carpal tunnel kicks in and the sin-regiment closes down shop.
WE ARE NOT THE WOBBLE HEADED DUKES of yesteryear. Our beer is FRESH and CRISP and lends to a derangement of the stool and a loosening of control over meat supplies.
We will not STEER out of the way, we will VEER out of the way …
When the light turns GREEN at the intersection, we HIT THAT 4-BARRELED BASTARD and dump 4 tons of gasoline magic into the ENGINE, and the wheels spin, and the lurching continues …
YOUR STOVETOP STUFFING is a muffin surprise for the EYES that lock with yours. That woman, and her COWBOY FUNK stunk up the PLACE and it was ACES you’d be playing “escape room” with her that night.
JEB LOVERS stick to the mountaintops, where the BLUE BIRD sings songs and the old timers bury themselves alive. JIVE TURKEYS get COOKED, and the SPIN SEAT HIDEAWAY is frozen in time as particles of light sweep over the fields and pastures.
I DEMAND YOU SAY:
“I WILL LURCH TO CHURCH!”
I will lurch to church and shire and chosen squires, keeping track of baby back ribs and chuck roast to boast.
THE PIZZA MAN is not my pal.
I CAREEN down the valley, heaving and broken, my words not spoken till the first WOAH-MAN came to hear.
I can stare down the BATS living upstairs, and take you to the sauna where we turn on the 60’s MOTOWN and with a FROWN you take my cash and bash my skull in , but I keep lurching.
With heaviness we sigh and the world spins further out of control. Our THIRST is without bounds, and the WHOLE TOWN is up in arms about what we did at Obrien’s Farm. You have a THIRST BURDEN and no one can take it down, the sign says “STOP”, but you lurch along, singing your song, to the BONG HEADS dying in the canal.
YOUR SCABS are CRAB MEAT for the FLEET when their ship comes in.
YOU PAINT YOUR BODY with TURBO TONGS and sober remedies, but the lost ones near the church don’t know; if they can GROW they can lurch too.
LESSONS are LEARNED when you get so badly burned that meaning is set aside in exchange for gun powder.
SO GET UP ON YOUR FUCKING FEET, it’s NEAT to FAIL-FORWARD and FALL on your miserable rice cakes.
HERE ARE THE OATHES of GRINKEN MAN and WOAH-MAN:
- Don’t sell things to DANES, don’t buy things from DANES. Don’t let your kids marry Danes, don’t ever have a Danish Obstetrician. Don’t let DANES make DRUGS or PRESCRIBE DRUGS, don’t let Danish people watch your dog while you are on vacation.
- YOUR COLOR COMPOUND is YOUR PROUD BUNKER. Hunker down and eat your chili out of a can and make sure you have plenty of TRIPLE STRAND CONCERTINA WIRE and the special gloves, IYKYK.
- WHEN THE MAGICIANS and GRIFTERS are selling their WARES? – keep your fucking eyes on the hands. Not the smile, not the fucking busty assistant in the skimpy outfit; watch the hands.
- You don’t know any more than I do, but you can use logic and simple truths to glean some undigested grapes and peanuts from the CAULDRON of LIES. Still though, you might only know the complete truth when it no longer matters.
- PAUL HARVEY IS G.O.A.T. – he set the standard for totalistic love-being and the share cropping of human life.
- GRINKEN MAN and WOAH-MAN were MADE for each other. We are good and nice and moist. We are sweet and sexy together – call me!
- PLEASURING a WOAH-MAN takes triple-threat maneuvers and weary hand toggling. YOUR SNAKE is the real pusher, and SHE WILL SEEM CRAZY if you’re not TOO lazy when you’re finishing her off.
- DO NOT FORGET BIRDY BESS! Do not forget what she WILL DO upon BUNKTON DAY!
- SUPER POWERS cost MONEY, and we don’t take checks or credit cards.
- TO BE A KUNG FU MASTER you have to understand the TAO of CLAM. Your honey-mustard JAM will TINGLE when you mingle BRUCE LEE with AUSTRALIAN KANGAROO and KOREAN STYLE kick-boxing.
- DANARCHISM is your SOUL THRUSTER and it will power your life through the pain and strife and your balanced crane shall not die. Instead LIVE PROUD FEVER MOMENTS, Gulliver’s Travels is your map.
SPEAK THE GREAT PRAYER TO THE SKY HAWK SHAMAN:
OH GREAT SKY FLAG,
BLUE AND RED AND WHITE,
FIGHTING COLORS
for dead black mothers.
Fighting spirit
for the gin parched,
and the after school clan.
BE THE BEST WAGON GANG,
WE WERE KANGZ,
AND the RAIN stopped,
and the waters receded.
NO LONGER ARE YOU HUNGRY
or sad,
NO LONGER DO YOU CARRY
that monster dilly palace
sandwiched in your brain.
CLAIM YOUR SALTY AND SAVORY VICTORY!
MAKE YOUR WOAH-MAN REAL!
Frolic away,
shamble away,
heave and weave,
roll and tilt,
lurch and perch,
careening down
the canyon wall.
GOOD MORNING,
FUCK YOU,
I LOVE YOU!
