
Roxie, Roxie,
Paradoxy
callin’ weed a bloom
your a.m. glory
changes story
when clock strikes high noon


Roxie, Roxie,
Paradoxy
callin’ weed a bloom
your a.m. glory
changes story
when clock strikes high noon


it’s weird
that they make almond milk
since almonds are all man
it’s sweet
like meat
but I repeat
the nuts are in the can
it’s near
as weird as milk from rice
cause grain is more like bran
it’s nice,
all right
but Jesus Christ
where are the rice’s glands?
Yes, grain is strange
and soy is bean
that smacks of sauce you tilt
on egg rolls fried
and bowls
of rice—dba as milk
no wonder now,
I stick with cow
whose moos familiar theme
skim or butter
that udder mother
cracks a whipping cream.

I think it is…
there’s store signs,
and star signs,
and cosigning loans…
there’s designs,
and ensigns,
and street signs for zones…
there’s resigns,
and designs,
and high signs that hint…
there’s ass signs,
and time signs,
and buck signs from mint…
there’s signs that’s a language,
for those who can’t hear
there’s lines made of dots,
for signing sincere
there’s so many signs!
It’s easy to miss,
the signs
from above,
a kind of kismet.

pharmacist could also be a ranch hand
◊
a script writer could also be a doctor
◊
a bartender could also be a correctional officer
◊
Programmer could also be an English Teacher
◊
fishermen could also be yes man

He was afraid of heights
–a tall man—
this was a problem.
She was afraid of small spaces,
–a dwarf—
she felt uneasy in her own skin.
A long-winded gal
–and asthmatic—
even sigh-lens
was loud
–when she was around.
Hal & Lula were
really’just
disciple’end…

they
refrained
alla time.
Herod
. . .

the original
bad joo-joo