COUSIN IT

Jenny Smith naked in a warm Sorrento sunrise,
Roasting her toes on your burnt mind.
I find inner strength in the talcum tampon tornado you call home.

Hide your throbbing temples beneath the blankets of Seres,
Billy the bully won't let your head back above the water.
My daughter ages gracefully 
as her Chinese vertebrae bloom and wilt in the light in August.

I have been selected to pose with the posers, 
hose with the hosers, jones with the jonesers,  
and lie with the liars about your deep gash 
in your prosthetic cheeks.
Lets lie in a field and lick stray eyelash hairs.
The doormats of whores hear the fat bag lady singing in Baghdad.

Starving children ooze heroin chiq rise 
Head and Shoulders above your Buddhist education in Boulder,
Siamese hips are simply too far away.
I reclaim inner strength and bottled joy 
and lisping lovers in Lisbon frown upon her trampled panties.

It's been a long time since I rock and rolled,
It's been a long time since I bowled.
It's been a long time since they called me Fat Shady,
It's been a long time since I felt eighty.

Sometime I miss Ms. Accardo 
and the thrilling Porsche ride of her love life 
but when spring gets hear the rebirth of pinging hormones 
and Cousin It still hides behind his hair and avoids my stare 
as I curse the follicles of our impending breakdown.

{POETRY}