Shiver me timbers . . . bitch is cold as hell
walking into a rainstorm hear the knell
a warning from sister time far and wide
i just want to cut my grass and drink beer,
loco—don’t know what you’re on about
transwoman living inside of my heart,
don’t know why i’m spooked, there’s no doubt
everybody here has to do their part
Or else we won’t make it when they start
drawing, shogun, from their damned lottery
bitch of a woman, sitting on my face,
can’t breathe, my friend—she is a disgrace
a can of worms, friend, losing my mind
friends abandon me—or I abandon them.
two sides of the same mother fucking coin
ensure the survival of the human race . . .
we strive to live forever, from fish eggs
to the cradle; one day we’ll get there, but
we’ll be someone a little different, then,
waking from a dream—remembering me
back when i was realizing just how great
i am . . . i dreamed of a world of light
i believed, at that point, in my gayest self,
changing the channel—get the numbers right
Coaxing the truth out of me; prove the
dimension, go down to ancient history
Well, you’re everything i want . . . no plan,
however, is in the works—living day
to day—depending on various quirks
sleight of hand with a little magic mixed
in—I can’t help it, loco, if I’m trans
Now we’re really going somewhere,
the shit hit the fan . . . well that kind of thing happens when you live up His ass; demonic warbler outside my window and i can’t, for the life of me, recover the sound of His voice breaking when I turned around
dumb this down a little: i’m really going somewhere you can hear me in the background—get a fucking clue so you, my darling, like to swear too; O ye of little faith, vermin and the cat - go hunting for alien life
Well, i’ll make a billion bucks on this Martian gold—crying out to be discovered, take a shot of estrogen; look homeward, angel, gone to negro town . . . they live in shanties when nobody’s around
Going, then, to the depths of hell; His racism lives in my bones—it’s like a cancer shifting skin tones well, yeah, i’ll embrace it, then, be done with me. Prove me wrong, blond mama, and I’ll repent
hold steadfast to the anchor, shoot!
i don’t know what they are going to do
make fun of me, i guess, for being blue
kind of thinking it would be nice to be you
Table it for later, and screw the pooch
I make no commitment, I am a fluke.
shy as a she-devil stalking her prey
don’t ask me all that went wrong today
too much to overcome, get off my face
it’s getting hot in here, just saying grace
doing a number on this head of mine—
now is your moment to cut loose and shine
what gives, then, in the afterlife? goodbye
to this guy, and on to the next, although,
I think, this is the meaning of me . . . counting
my chickens under the colonial oak,
let me have a toke! damn boredom is
torture—leads to shame, fuck the Christian,
the white man is game. well, that’s all,
i think, from my brown sugar mama, which
is not the same as my Italian PM, calling
His bluff. Look who enters, now, into the
ring—a standoffish man, his arm in a sling,
having too much sex with himself, saving,
I think, the activity of my mind’s eye, finding
it’s way—looking for the explanation, the
meaning is there, minus the information
raw purpose, it seems, propels me forward
to something, yet, that I don’t recognize,
shifting dimensions will be the death of
this one—so there’s really no way to
get around it, is there? Since, once above
I’m a combination of souls? But, he tells
me, this one is included in full—at least
the important parts standing on my skull
Reminisce, then, on this old dream of mine
I die, Horatio, but I’ll remember His rhyme