Roddy's Rooster, man! you couldn't
  oust her
Standing up there on his dunghill fair
Announcing to the whole world, to All
  everywhere
My ****! He's the greatest doodle doer
O! that Roddy's Rooster.

He don't need no booster, does
  Roddy's Rooster
He'd even go after the goose sir
Don't you fouster with this Rooster
You'd only lose sir
Now vamoose sir.

Very dapper and quite the scrapper
Patrolling his perimeter
Strutting around the farmyard pound
Invariably, henhouse bound
If you were to meet him
It'd be "Put up your dukes sir
Me! I'm Roddy's Rooster".

With his tail feathers all fluffed up
Like a feather duster
And his chest all puffed out
Quite the Dandy and always randy
What a Suitor that Roddy's Rooster
And O! what a Wooer, that wooey
  doodler.

                         I I

He came a cropper though one day
When he fell in the Hopper
Now he's a good deal shorter
And not half as cocky as before,
Now he sits on his wall lamenting his
  fall
Thinking of the days when he used to
  have a ball
Has Lady Luck that Grand Old Duck
  deserted him I wonder.

Sad to see, now he's a bit gammy
More Bandy than Dandy
He still South's in the Summer
But has doubts in the Winter,
Now he likes to crow his woes and
  lows away
Climbing up onto his dunghill, he
   greets the day
But now in a high shrill falsetto
  voice
He sings  in a whole different way
" I've been round the Ringer but I'm
  still quite a Dinger
**** a Doodley Doo"
Now... now he's a ****** Blues singer!

O! that Roddy's Rooster.
Roddy's Rooster Yeeaahh!

really **** cool,
Plump rain clouds,having a ball;
randy wind, jealous!

team Candy and Randy
bought the shop owner
out
their volumes of cash
sure had a massive
clout

they've a money supply
which will not peter
out
it just keeps giving like
an endless water
spout

this has allowed them
purchase in stock so
stout
as their banknotes won't
ever completely run
out

how we'd so like having
wads of their stack's
tout
to buy the seller's assets
that are on shelves of
flout

Randy was a roach
Of the american cockroach variety
He was a deep brown and had a sickly shine
To his wings and antennae
And he studied both of us
From a perch in our suitcase
In my girlfriend's East Harlem apartment
In the early hours of a sunday morning

"**** it! Get it out of the suitcase!"
My girlfriend yelled
Flailing her arms
As Randy reclined on our valuables
His antennae twitching

As in most crisis
I hesitated
And Randy burrowed into the suitcase
Past the underwear, collard shirts, and sunscreen

I dug in a frenzy
Rending my girlfriend's meticulous packing plan
And scattering clothes about
All in the name of meaningless destruction

But I couldn't find Randy
"He's probably in the collar of one of your shirts, or in a pair of my shoes"
My girlfriend speculated
And I started shaking the clothes wildly about the room
Wanting more than anything to extinguish Randy's life
To sterilize our newfound stowaways presence
But I never found him
And Randy boarded the plane with us to ***** Cana

While our plane painted dizzying contrails over the ocean
We speculated about Randy's
Most likely devious activities
"I bet he's eating the granola bars under my bikinis"
"I bet there is more than one in there"
"Maybe he's dead?"
"I bet he's laying eggs"
We both pondered over the fact that Randy could be Rhonda
And that we would open the suitcase to a scattering of near microscopic progeny
And we clutched each other in the cold, recycled air of the cabin

When we got to the room
Past all the tin shacks and open air bars
Where the locals sat in plastic lawn chairs
Staring at the tourist shuttles
That carted pale skin behind tinted windows
To decadently decorated rooms where the towels were folded into swans
We opened the bag to see if Randy
Had surfaced, died, or multiplied

But Randy was no where to be seen , a phantom
We unpacked everything under the utmost scrutiny
Not trusting any of the items we had packed so lovingly and repacked
Shaking cover ups and tee shirts like the wind shakes the leaves in autumn
But he never presented himself
And we saw none of his foul brood
We even unzipped the lining
But Randy had simply vanished
Evaporating into the humid, tropical air

I like to think that Randy is somewhere on the island still
That he has impregnated or has been impregnated
That he spends his days under the intense sun
And cottony wisps of clouds
Sipping Presidente
Sitting under an umbrella made of dried palm fronds
Happy to be away from the honking horns and crowded subways
Just like we were

A randy beetle,
circles a closing lotus;
nightly paramour.

An angel on earth was found and blessed by a wonderful lover forever,
But this angel fell and she fell far, so far her lover could not retrieve her.
She loves him still and always will; even with her heart stretched by so many who love her so completely.  Her heart has plenty of room to enfold more to love and care about.

But she lost her midnight blue, her silver cherubs running too fast,
spread too thinly.  She sits on nearby riverbanks late at night watching the waters flow; crying for those she loves the most, those she believes she can help no longer.  She cannot help herself enough to give way to some of the great ***** passions she believes cannot be met by him and he loves her from the bottom of his heart.  The angel is so loved by so many, but cannot accept help; will not accept help, because she has fallen into a dark hole that has stolen her wings.  She kicks and screams like a beautiful stallion all alone trying to get out of the waters of the dark hole.  She is all alone and it is late at night, midnight blue with many silverly stars above.
The midnight blue starry skies watch and silver cherubs  remind her of their love and needs.  She wonders why she lusted so much, and he is glad she did.  Did he tell her so?  Forgive such a sin an angel feels.  In love all is fair.  Save her, let her know.  Show her in oh so many ways!

A Randy is not enough
so I've been gifted two.
I have two Randies.
One on my left eye,
the other on the right.

Their colors are dark brown.
So dark, so close to black
you would not be able to tell.
But I know them,
my two Randies.

They are older than me
but I was here first.
Even I knew it when
God was born.
Just like how the bible says it,
God is an
illegitimate child.
God was thrown away
by the Mother of God
and the Father of God
didn't really care about
anything.

Heaven was a warm orphanage
but then God felt so lonely
and the angels were way too boring.

God had such a hard time
practicing to create Adam.
But God was happy.
And God created Eve.
But God made them leave.

God was happy.
Not anymore.

So God created two Randies
to be put on my eyes.
God hoped that the Randies
would help me to see
what I am going to create;
would it make me happy or sad?
But God forgot
to grant me
the power of creation.

So here I am.
With two Randies on my eyes,
dark brown, so dark, so close to black
you would not be able to tell.
But I know them,
my two Randies.

They are the ones
who block my view.
I once did see but now am blind.
My two Randies.

Get them off of me.
Get them off of me.

But I am too scared
to
let them go.
They would die
when they are separated from me.
My two Randies
are God's gift.
God would be angry
if I throw away such a thoughtful gift.
God would be angry
and I am scared of it
even though I existed first.

Seniority
doesn't really work here.

I knew two Randy's in my life
The first was Regina's older brother
I remembered I once saw his photograph
But first glimpse wouldn't stuck so long in my head
So I would tell you about Regina instead
She was a dancer and she cooked well
I once was in the same class as her
She used to bring her cookings to school
Healthy meals but enormously delicious
Not that I have had eaten it before;
I am just exaggerating --

Her parents wanted her to be a doctor
But she didn't know what she wanted to be
So let's forget it because
I, too, don't really care about her

Her name reminded me of another Regina
We were strangely quite close on Junior High
This Regina had cute teeth and pretty eyes
And her laugh made me happy
She was the leader of Journalistic Club
And I regretted I had not joined the club
Not because of her, but
Because I remembered that later on Senior High
I wanted to be a journalist --
Not anymore

The second Randy was an actor
I watched a play and found him
So mesmerizing, his presence was so consuming
His acting felt so real or perhaps it was
He was afraid of death, so afraid
Even though it was because of his own doings
He was the one who betrayed himself and the world
He was the one who did it all
He shouldn't be afraid of such hatred
Because he was the hatred
He was the hatred

Then off stage
I saw his mother and how proud she was
To see her son had played so well
She didn't know what was
Really happening
She was going to be betrayed by her own son
And her son wouldn't be able
To escape that fate
Being the hatred
Being the hatred ----


I knew two Randy's in my life
The first was Regina's older brother
And the second was the hatred who played actor
And I don't think I want to know more;
There were enough Randy's already --