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you know that some flotsam-smelling, hermit crab dive zone
<< now why Major Tom gowan marry up some asian poon?

gonna keep her kid and gi’ him no own

goin’ take his spoon
aint nothin left but skin n bone
and millions in the bank all on her loan
she dont want the world, just his half ‘s all

now why Spaceman Biff with that l’i’l toadstool?

light up that asshole all kimchi-this n kimchi that
shit out willie pete with a soju chaser and a leaky dead kat
the boy’s smart but the boy’s a fool
to that half-pint o rice milk
promised him silk
but feeds him gruel

see’s ‘em coming a tank-trap away
got her schoolgirl books from git-yer-G.I.
she got this scarecrow boy’s body
no funny bone, no tits an’ a lazy eye
all deef in one eer and spikes where her ass oughtta be

got no dogs, got no boys
not even a’ orphan to take plinkin’
got a garageful o careful chose toys
and that teeny house no good for dinner-drinkin
or poker wi the boys

her bachelor boy goin’ soon boost his yankee roost
goin’ move in be under mama-san’s care
be under the cap’n’s roof
watch his money go poof!

the boy be a loyal grasshopper ,
him all yin, no yang
an’major tom gowan come a ‘cropper
him careful-planned, knuckle-crunch and grind jaw to da bone
and him a loyal grasshopper, too
dead-clutch that nettle all night long

her protest church praise a dead dog in a mortar pit
“oh my head’s like a steppin-on”

the snakes circle him in the rain
“I just wants you try a little tenderness,
show me some tender-loving care.”
“you just have to be strong, you have to take the pain”

“on the bulletin board, i’ll say a prayer”

“he’s a deacon you know”

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and his mother’s crying and his father’s a diplomat

got his house on the lake
got a child-thirst canna slake

got guns n bikes n bucks
got no little ‘un to say “Shucks.”

got no dog make a mess

got a board-shaped woman ne’er own a dress

got a bee-sting woman ne’er get undressed

nothing but dog jerk n a rice cake

aint allowed no fine i-talian grub
and her red peppers dun dried up on the roof
dun shriveled to nuthin, all their taste gone poof!

her overgrowed eggs a-rot 2 feet down in a kimchi pot
him got nine combustions and her a trailer for the dead

his sister under the dismal swamp make boats n make kids
his brother in dat cold water make bikes n make kids
but on the 38th parallel they aint making no kids
what wi’ her babymaker on the skids

no patter o little sweet
just the poof-poof-poof o speed-addled chinks
pad-pad-pad down the riverbed rot all amphetamine-addled
all nightblind and ammo-saddled
with rice balls fer feet

the z’s gone all for poaching now
and the guardposts where we used smoke
the ambush sites we used to sweat
aint no Ma Deuce
aint no kids
aint no joke
just rusty ol’ mines in a ocean o pigshit
that churn over n under w every dolphin rain

with every egret explodes into the sky
all piss in my pants and chin a-burn w ‘baccy juice

but you know every toadstool soldier walks by.
got pictures o his kids in his pocket

Then that crazy no-count cunt of a toadstool
Goes puddle-jumping the stegosaurus heads o every storm-tossed banjo crab
And them san’pipers all uproared
Cuz any bayo boy scout know’d
San’piper got to kill its own goat
See’s ain’t no dead horse she won’t stab in the throat.

x

And now we walk the bone-crunching-cold beach
The wind, the sunset, the turn to face away
The ships at moor in the bay
The recent storm, the sandpipers at play
And our lil toadstool collapsing the empty brows of the horshoe crabs

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