all i want
is a philly cheese steak
not the kind from penn station
but the real ones
from joes
you know,
on 42nd street
where miles
and monk
are played on the corner
by sax mills
and for a dime
you can hear it
loud as the honking horns
blowing in time with the bustling street
while men wearing black bow ties
try to sell me bean pies
allah for a dollar

yeah,
there is where i go
after the grill has been
used all day
and the grease is caked up
like layered pastries
cause that's when they taste best
smothered in onions
and provolone cheese
thicker than
a baby wrapped in a winter blanket

yeah man,
this is my daily bread

my friend al
calls me every night
midnight to be exact
with invites to the maryland club,
you know the one, near hudsons bay
where johnny walkers always playing that old drum?

come he says
& we can dance with martini & rossi
baila baila on table tops
while jose cuervo
plays his cuban guitar.

aye yae yae mami,
venga, venga!
come
let me show you the comforts
of southern hospitality

it will only cost you one silver dollar

i try to say no
absolutely not

cause the last time i danced with al
i found myself lying in the arms of ron bacardi
at the old kentuky tavern down by the green river
ooh, he was soo smooth talking
standing there dressed in his red label shoes
& when he told me i felt like black velvet,
handed me four roses
& tickled me with three feathers
i found myself with my
backside to the ground
& me looking up at nothin but skyy
& by the time i knew what was going on
we had done it 151 times
before jack daniels caught us
behind mr. boston's house
& when he swore
he’d tell my old grand dad
i was so scared,
i stole the white horse
that belonged to capitan morgan
just to get away.

lord knows to this day
if he knew
he’d slap me silly, take me to church
& swear the christian brothers
could save my soul.

no, i wanna say
absolutely not

but its too late

i’m already at the canadian club
where my soul is being ******
by the fat *******
filling my glass
with crushed grapes.