|Her WowWee™ Animatronic Elvis
Silicone or latex—hope
the makeup isn't toxic lead
when she takes her lover's best
half, a bust in bed. The Elvis sings
to her tonight, it wawls, a Memphis cat
for much, and more to lack.
12 Aug 07
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does this kind of thing work for you in bars and truck stops? do you bring a toothbrush along, or is it just us that has to do the blow job? you might be saying, "blow-me, fuckers", but you seem old enough to blow yourself.
removed all reference to truck stops and bars and toothbrushes and blow jobs and fuckers.
removed all but reference to self gratification as a means of self survival.
humm, i'd been thinking that the trucks and bars and blows and brushes were in fact the self-survival. i sort of think that the ethical is a little too oblique in this for me, that i can't see the structure of howl and wawl is gratifying enough to keep this one up for very long. maybe it's' the strangeness of the rhymes, which seem to be a mocking, yet there doesn't seem to be anything to mock -- that self-survival thing, perhaps being the strength of it. but, i'm pretty unjudgemental about people's trips, and i didn't mind the carnival feeling, only the bland and bald assertion that the surface of the plastic world was fake. it's sort of all we know.
I've put it up at FreeWrights, under The Broiler.
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The poem can be critted there by anybody.