I bit in to it.
Explode,
Gunpowder in a cherry stone.
The flavours fit together like a jigsaw, then drifted apart like countries on an ocean;
Heat from old coals on a young tongue that hadn't tasted the world.
Fluid concertina accordion flavour -too many colours spoil the canvas.

It's a short sentence but I've never said it.
Let something like that drop and it goes on long after it stops.
The ripples spread beyond their little puddle confines
The echoes ricochet through the fullest of minds
The gravity of the sentiment is enough to tug the moon from the sky.

Or cause the vessels of hope I've come to know as my eyes to change.
Fill up.

Martini glasses left out in the rain.

There's something crazy going on these days
Down at the city zoo
The giraffes have joined the high society club
While the monkies are getting tattoos

The elephant's are packing up their trunks
And moving to the Bronx
With all the hippos on a diet
In an effort to lose their junk

The Lions have stopped lying
The cheetahs have stopped cheating
And as far as all their drinking
They're both going to A.A. meetings

The orangutans are the ones to blame
For a pyramid scheme gone bad
Left the zebras all in the red
When they lost everything they had

The crocodiles are out sunning themselves
By the pool drinking Piña coladas
While the mother snakes go on Maury
To try and figure out who is the father

Yes, things are a little crazy these days
Down at the city zoo
But if you were locked in a cage all day
Wouldn't you go crazy too?

Maybe I haven’t met you yet.
You are my beach.
A happy spot, bringing only cloudless thoughts.
A relaxing stretch that melts away the dark.
Two piña coladas, umbrella, towel, and endless sun.
You are my beach.
To dream is fun.

Resultant from years of financial haggling
The Money Boys come to the fore
Capitalizing on predatory trading
Manipulating for profits galore.
Leveraged stocks and debt obligation
advantage producing high dividend yield,
Squeezing the borrowers mortgage commitment,
Showing the hopeless the foreclosure field.
Passionless people with passionless faces
Smiling with fathomless eyes at your plight,
Knowing that if foreclosure is pending
Return on the sale will turn out all right.

Inflationary pressures are gradually worsening
Our Treasury man is flexing his arm
He’s keeping a close eye on monetary policy
Holding the cash rate to stop fiscal harm.
Upside and downsides defy expectation,
Rampantly wobbling the real estate boom,
Uncertainties globally, holding to ransom,
That American sub prime must remedy soon.

The high Government spending and big dairy pay outs
The rocketing prices of everyday stuff
Ridiculous rules for control of emissions
And fiscal expansion that’s really too tough.
Domestic inflation is making it harder
The Treasurer’s threatening to hike it this year
Persistent uncertainties running quite rampant
And our money communities sniffing the air.

Do you have faith in the bank institution?
Do you trust them with all of your funds?
In the event of collapse do you think you’ll be honoured
With return of deposits in full total sum?
Not on your Nellie my fine young depositor
An unsecured creditor fellow are you,
You go to the back of the line if there’s failure
You’re hung high and dry at the end of the queue.
You can yell and complain till the sun sets my friend
Compose all the letters you like to the judge.
But the fact of the matter in Money Men chatter
Means IT’S LEGAL and ON THIS OUR STATE WILL NOT BUDGE!

So the money boys win, never mind about justice
Causing division right here on our plate.
There’s the rich and the poor, the haves and the have nots
Social corrosion in wealth based hate.

Extrapolate out and you witness this worldwide
The fabulous West and the destitute poor,
The pina coladas and Chevrolet excess
Thin starving kids on dirt African floors.
Indulgent young starlets with ******* teasers
Black Ethiopian mothers in rags.
The fat and the frivolous gorging on beefsteak
Filthy and homeless men begging for ****.

When you bring it all back it’s a fraudulent system
Where the money men cause a division in man
Instead of devising a planet of sharing
They grab and they gouge and they keep all they can.
The God of GET is worshipped widely,  Egocentric, selfish man
Tomorrows future hangs in the balance.
…WOULD YOU LAY ODDS ON GETS’ GREAT PLAN ?


Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
25 January 2008


  

© 2011 Marshal Gebbie

Christ and his apostles
had but bread and wine to share.
At that Last Supper many came
to a table nearly bare.

Gandolfini came by honestly,
his girth and double chin.
The mayonnaise he relished
May be what did him in.

He enjoyed a glass, or two, of beer
He liked his King Prawns fried.
He downed a pint of Morgan’s ***
with foie gras on the side.
Two Pina Coladas for dessert.
But surely that’s no sin.
Some speculate t’was the massive tab
That led to Tony’s end.

You are my biggest inspiration and
my sense of motivation and
I wouldn't be who I am without your hand
to guide me through all these years.
You taught me everything that I know and
you've helped me through all of the new
challenges thrown my way.
Do you remember when we sat on the steps
by the door upstairs and stared at the moon?
It felt like closure for both of us and it's
one of my favorite memories.
Do you remember running away to the beach
for ****** pina coladas and to sit in the
sand for stolen lunch breaks?
I'll never forget stuffing your trunk with bags of
clothes with that secret smile and knowing that
I won't tell if you won't.
I've never had more comfort than knowing I
had you beside me during my worst moments,
even an entire country apart.
When the time comes, I hope I can be
half the mother that you are to me.

I get these headaches that start right behind the middle of my eyebrow, swoops down into my nose and then swings up and pings off my forehead.

They call them “sinus headaches.”

The word sinus in italian means canals. And when I think of that, I can’t help but think of little gondolas with Italian men singing to me as I look at the stars. It doesn’t make the headache go away but it really makes me wish I were in Italy.

It’s funny how when things get rough, we instantly gravitate towards escaping to foreign lands. A headache certainly isn’t the roughest it could be, that’s for sure.

But escape…that’s a double-edged sword. Escape isn’t what it promises. While the idea of sipping pina coladas poolside, or meditating in a forest far away may seem like perfect, what does that really resolve? It means that whatever made you leave is still waiting for a resolution. Even worse, it probably grew in size. Bills become bills plus interest and late fees. Arguments turn from “how dare you say that?” to “how dare you leave after saying that?” When you leave, you leave behind a mess with the assumption that others will take care of you, but instead, frustrations rise and you break ties.

Whenever I get sick or nauseous, I immediately start thinking of my own personal Nirvana. I visualize the image of myself in this beautiful place relaxing and breathing in that maple tree air and hearing the river waves around me.

That’s nice, right? And that’s ok. I think we’re all allowed our mental escapes once in awhile.

But actual physical escapes? Those hurt others. And no amount of river wave will fix that.

We went to the Vatican Palace
The Persona Grata feeling
Royal but not so loyal
Why did they serve
"Pina Coladas"
((That Good Eats)) Alton Brown
Please join us
A plus money greens
Whoa!!! $$$ Alice tea-light dresses
and gowns

Why does this good earth
only have lettuce

Alice got malice only VIP Lettuce_**
Only for me very fancy Bell a-me
Feed the solivagant lonely lettuce
Roll out the mice

The safest place to be for Alice
Love more worry less
So high tea bad batch of lettuce
no man no God
Gets my land and treehouse
That Prima Donna's their names
Are not anything close to Alice
The children Baby Bella greens
Those vendettas of Vamps
Lady  and the *****'s Disney
tea-light
The ****** British teas fight
The Kings speech host
The headline (News Alice Nowhere)
To post_  Only Lettuce hear me!
The college sophomores I pad
so poshly followed
Alice felt like Giant Pea Pod with
her plants

He galavants he hit the jackpot ((Greenhouse))
Her spouse has the rabbit foot
the Jolly big dollhouse boot
shape Sicily
That stuffy girly cabbage
Hollywood Alice look a likes
The garage sale if only only?
Came with two brains there
better than one
Doing the airplane the girl
Alice so highly Jaded spoon
She went to (Dallas) cute
teacup pups
They shredded important
papers instead
of shredding
her lettuce
The stewardess marked malice on
her dress the mess
She got arrested by the Police
The plain Jane looking, Alice,
The only Bow do the Grace
The Palace aurora borealis,
Her four-leaf clover Venus
(Green Planet Day)
Ahh I need your love girl
Guess you know its green
Eight days a week so mean
But she goes three days a week
for dialysis

Alice got laryngitis
The others team of brothers
Other Mothers and
lady Mary Alice
in her own wonderland

Premeditation green
between meditation
She saw something eat me
Aforethought
The picnic so vindictiveness
She saw the rabbit hole
Alice expression mark mole

New Alice face Holyland
she missed her crownland
Another trip to Rio De Janeiro  
Surrender to the (Scottish kilts)
Face close near a computer and
her crazy cat on her Lapland
She finally ate the salad 
 the green ticket Oliver tea bags pocket
Drop to you shop at ((Londons Harrods))
funds
Alice in the wonderland friends
The Gods Shamrock pudding silly
Aforethought if only_ this wonderland
Off with the Queens Brass head froze chilly
Malevolent  so malice
She came back with a flying
colors no more greens she wished
if only__only
My Rainbow how it always seemed

i like bright orange sunsets
and long walks by the beach
this helps to ease the sudden onsets
of my persistent itch

i like candlelit dinners
and staring at the stars
and you might quickly catch a glimmer
of my post acne scars

i like to sip expensive wine
and a large pina colada
if you do too you'll love to dine
with me and with my mother

so if you like orange sunsets too
jump in my arms and fall
to get to me you must get through
my itch, my warts and all

Not too long ago but the wisdom still alluded me
And not be Frank, I was never one for the Ocean and sand.
So the salt in my lungs, your gaze into my eyes was new to me.
Scared but not enough to tell you, I took your hand.

(The waves felt good on my coarse skin.)

No TVs there, it was Remote.
The locals wagered on a pair of dice.
Coladas with two cubes a pair of ice.
I was living in, and you are my Paradise.
Everything I wanted and more, but still not willing to sacrifice

(I rebel, I rebel)

All that was asked was reciprocation.
She said” Boy just say my name, that’s all I want”
“ Show me joules. Life, Love, and Dedication.”
Told her “ stop trippin” She said ”why you front?”

(Time Passed)

All that was asked was reciprocation.
But society’s serpent wouldn’t let me. ( Boys aren’t supposed to feel)
Eve’s whisper led me to condemnation. ( No room for my pride)
Wiped the Salt water from my eyes “Just don’t forget me.” ( she apathetically pointed at the door)

The rain fell

… I’ll never forget raindrops I felt, that night I plead with you
Same raindrops I felt that first night that I kissed you.
And I cannot lie and say that I don’t miss you.
…That I don’t miss my paradise.

But – sometimes stories don’t end the way you want’m to right?

(Lost Happiness, Lingering Pain)

I miss you

Right hand to god, Left hand holding the remains of my heart.

My wife agreed to marriage counseling before the great divorce,
and of course, she picked the counselor.  This is it; one session, one shot at redemption.  I waited with bated breath for the day to arrive.
It did.  We met at his office, where hope was dashed to shreds like a ship
on a coral reef, like dreams of domestic bliss made of glass and shattered on the kitchen floor with no broom to sweep them up.
We shouldn't get lawyers and go to court.  We should have a funeral and sing, Rock of Ages, because divorce is the death of a family.

The room is nice and cold as ice, and he's friendly, boisterous, and bold, but here's the clincher, he wore an eye patch.  Maybe he had surgery or some type of injury, but everything he said was drowned out by the voice in my head that screamed, "He looks like a pirate, and no ******* pirate is going to tell me how I should have been a better husband."  I quickly scanned the room for a cage where he kept his parrot, which usually sat on his shoulder and sang old songs of the sea.  I glanced at his right hand, but conveniently it was hidden by the desk.  Now I was sure.  It wasn't a hand at all, but a hook, that he used to scratch his ***, or to spear the shreds of broken lives left over from a long day's work.  His hand was probably a casualty, lost on a voyage to a shark he tried to advise.

I leaned over and whispered in my wife's ear, "Where did you find this ******* nut. Long John Silvers?"  The humor eluded her like the sunken treasure did the old sea dog that sat across from me.  I swore if he said, "Aye aye matey."  I would smack him, and jack his ship, and maybe my wife and I would sail south to the Caribbean, not to the ride at Disneyland, Pirates of the Caribbean, but to the islands, where we would lie **** on the sandy beaches and drink Pina Coladas, or some other fruit-filled umbrella drink, until we were so drunk we couldn't see straight, and all our problems would sink like the setting sun into a brand new horizon.  But the old scalawag had no pirate lingo, so the hour came and went, our money was poorly spent, and it was lunchtime, and I was bent on seafood.

It's time
Is what my jazz teacher yelled over Rupert Holmes singing yes I like pina coladas
and as I stretched my ligaments trying to mold my body into a new shape
in the back of my mind I asked "Am I ready?"

because

I don't feel ready.
I like it here, where I'm safe
no choices
no thoughts
no judgments
no fear
but no matter how numerous the mistakes
I must remember
there's only so many excuses a person can make

so no more excuses

It's time
to contribute to the chaos,
scream at the stars for every false promise,
sing for those who don't have a voice,
be wise when dealing with precarious choice,
grin at the world and give it my faith,
exist as I am,
begin in this breath anew,
free myself from my own expectations,
cherish the individual and the crowd; for they each have worth,
fail and enjoy every moment of it,
laugh because this is it and it is I.

get rid of the plans

I've been tired for too long,
reluctant,
unsure.

It's time
for an existence centered around love
It's time
to accept this life as it is: uniquely mine

I refuse to lose myself again
in the drifting fog that leaves me guessing at what shape I am

It's time
to live.

This is something I wrote to be read at my Cousin Rene's funeral.

Oh My! I'm zooming down the Spanish coast... dipping my toes in the Med.
But you might find me on a Cornish Campsite drinking Pina Coladas instead.
Or it could be me, arm-in arm with good pals in pre-war summers... painting Withernsea red!
To all of those who saw me through the darker days I am thankful that you helped & guided...

Oh My! ...But I'm better now... I'm free... it's been a trying time, but once again... I can be me!
And there's something else I've just realised. Do you know what? I can see!
The last few years haven't been kind to me. Apparently I hadn't been making much sense.
I knew inside what I wanted to say... being with me must have made people nervous... tense.

But now the pressure's lifted, for loved ones and for me.
I was ready - went on too long. Now I'm on the 'other side'.
From now you’ll hear me on the wind in the trees and my whispers, in the surf and the tide.
I'm pain free, light and frothy again, teetering on heels... I’m a dizzy apricot blonde... No need for me to hide...
I might even drop in on you as I'm told you can... to say a quick thanks for all who helped - or tried...

Oh My!... and yes....people to thank? It's like an Oscar speech...
there's a list....but amongst all one stands out... shines like a star...
My Chef... my Chauffeur... my Ears.... my Eyes... my Angel... my Wingman... My Ken!
By my side through bad times, the good times and all those difficult bits... Not the now - but the then...
My Multi-tasker, My Carer...My Rock... My 'Rock & Roller'...
I remember we used to jive way back when...
And as the old song goes, I'm sure ... We’ll meet again!
Oh My!

As the deposit in my shoulder begins loosening, visions of a paradisiacal oasis reveal themselves. I can almost hear the pina coladas being poured atop the pool bar’s island countertop. Cabana chairs, shaped like beds, perfectly host kissing parties within the nighttime’s ocean breeze. There are businessmen purchasing cigars outside of taxi stops and ******* within the depths of knick knack shops. Everybody’s stocking up for tonight’s white wrist band karaoke bash on the top floor of each and every all inclusive resort and nobody’s holding back any expenses.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Dreams, visions, hopes.” replies the Preceptor.

We're in your bed with the blinds down and a book in my hands and my hair in yours and there are no complaints and you could do this forever as long as we had a little change in scenery.

Click.

We wake up to tangled limbs, sandy toes, and terribly translated Spanish sentences in Cancun.

Click.

We're hungover from pina coladas and white russian daquiris in a Russian red hammock hanging off the coast of Honolulu.

Click.

I open my eyes to ivory smiles and mountain tops and snowflakes in your lashes and smoke cascading from your lips because it's legal here and I love seeing you in your element.

Click.

You yawn to the sound of our mixtape softly playing, wrapped in your aunt's quilts in the back of our van parked overlooking the rust colored rocks topped with lavender reflections in the lake.

Click.

The sun greets us with golden rays leaking through the gaps of shadowed hills that mimic the autumn tinted hazel eyes I'm staring into.

Click.

Hazy gray fog surrounds us to the point we can't see our own hands, only each others faces.

Click.

We roll around on hundreds of palettes of the most famous of artists as we take in the spectrum of colors from inside the Antelope Valley Canyon and we whisper in each other's ears what part of our own bodies each shade reminds us of.

Click.

We're warmed by a fireplace in a quaint house made of stone surrounded by fluffs of white and glacier blue tranquility and a tiny spec of sun fighting to shine through piles of dull pink and gray clouds.

Click.

We're chapped lips and dry skin beneath 900 year old trees and thousands of stars and the man in the moon is looking down in approval like he finally got the perfect candid shot he's been trying to capture for centuries.


We jump into images of the world like old cartoons.
I want to explore every one of earths phenomena with you.
Canals in Venice. Cathedrals in Versailles.
Cu Chi tunnels in Vietnam. Cueva del Fantasma in Venezuela.
I want to spend our nights under the northern lights.
I'd disappear somewhere in the Bermuda triangle if it meant I wouldn't ever have to find myself without you by my side.

I want my happiness to be found in,
my life to be measured by,
my dreams to be slept under,
and my time to pass by,
the sunsets watched with you.

We'll vagabond our way through the seasons and changes in scenery and grow as tall as the trees we carved our initials into.

Once again lonely winter days and frigid nights
Hibernation or desperation flutter one’s mind
Oh how we long for those summer day, as we
Basked in the warmth of the sun rays,
Pink umbrella glasses of Pinna Coladas or
Coconut-flavored Malibu ***

Now it's what will be will be
Quod erit, erit!

The last bikini tan lines of summer fade like autumn leave
But here today it still lingered in one’s mind
It was a summer of secrets or was it too much exposure to the sun?

The gleaming sand upon the Caribbean shores
Summer!  Oh summer where are you?
Oh summer, oh summer where you,
Please slapdash with your misty blue skies

If you like pina coladas
and doing drugs in the rain,
if you're not into Jesus
(cause you have half a brain),
if you like making love in public
or someplace quite unsafe,
we'll meet when I make parole
or I make an escape.

Those wise stars twinkled so luminously, I looked over into your eyes thinking all the answers could be found in their depths.
I wouldn't call it pathetic maybe just hopeful and naive with a tinge of foolishness. Intellectual depth was mistaken for insightfulness and the spark I thought I saw in your eyes was nothing but a dull, passionless blown out star.
The ocean breeze, salty air and Piña coladas tend to make you drastically romanticize everything (especially that hideous necklace that looked nothing like Something I would've worn).
That last night I had to beg you to stay up with me watching the Florida coast line come into view. The outline of the whole state was visible and that was when I realized I really ******* love my life. I looked over at you and you were half asleep.
Different priorities, different mind set, different ideals .You were a bland key-lime pie while I was a red velvet cake. I, Rich with prosperity and thoughts and you were content with the life I dreaded seeing myself stuck in.
Hey, if a a big house on a lake with a dog and a boat is your thing, go for it. I strive to not follow in my parents footsteps.
The day we ended I went down to Davis island where we always used to sit. The carnival cruise ship was leaving. I watched it sail all the way out into the horizon, the warm thought of you went with it.

Who can tell when you first open yours eyes what the day holds for you.
Open your eyes brush your teeth plan your day, is your day going to be a day in the life like Harold Crick the guy from Stranger than Fiction or Phil Conners the weather guy from Groundhog Day or perhaps a little of both.
I used to find ground hog day funny now I’m not so sure.
Life is bad enough sometimes without it repeating itself until we get it right and resolve the issues that make us a person other people talk about in less than complimentary tones behind our back.
However Harold Crick, (google it if you don’t know this guy) perhaps got it right accepting his fate eventually with grace as he felt his ending was poetic and just; if only we could all be so lucky to know our fate in advance and accept that all our lives end and we need to accept it.
As with Harold, by accepting the inevitable does that give us a chance for our ending to take another path not of our or anyone else’s choosing but simply a random series of events that makes things turn out the way they turn out and it is as simple as that.
Some may say life is not like the movies or soap operas. But where do you think the writers get there ideas from. If you look at comedy writers, some of the universally funny comedians such as Billy Connelly or Jerry Seinfeld take their humour from real life.
The writers of Groundhog Day must have at some stage thought what if you couldn’t move on to the next day until you got it right and then wrote the script. As Bill Murray’s character said in Groundhog Day, “I was in the ****** Islands once. I met a girl. We ate lobster, drank piña coladas. At sunset, we made love like sea otters. That was a pretty good day. Why couldn't I get that day over, and over, and over... Well Bill, life’s like that, we don’t get to choose, and that’s not funny.

Once I soared on an angel with steel wings,
through a piercing blue sky
over the dark belly of a Gulf,
to a land unknown to me.
Stepping out of the airlock turned my clothes into hot laundry
as the warm culture washed over me and my family.
Me in my ten year old body had never left the states,
it was my turn to be the minority.
Akumal,
a small but sprightly tourist town,
filled with little shops and nooks 'n crannies to explore.
My family and I would stay at a private resort for ten days
that rested upon white sands and crystal waves that constantly
licked and salted the air along with the fishermen’s boats.
Crashing splashing crashing,
always the sound of the blue waves crashing.
The birds sing their foreign songs.
Day,
sweltering and bright,
the wee little town of Akumal stirred with life.
Pesos clicking in pockets of fruit buyers,
the treble of am radio words fly through the air.
Clouds of dirt from the road follow run-down trucks and cars,
kids kick around a melon in the street.
Never had to know Spanish to know what happiness sounded like.
At the resort was a more calming scene.
The wind gust across the warm sand, occasionally knocking down a coconut into the squishy sand.
They always tasted like salt water, but my sister and I kept cracking them open, like there might be a pearl inside one of them.
The outside resort had a bar next to the beach, serving the little ones
Pina Coladas and Banana Smoothies. The bartender was an ecstatic man, always with a wide grin of joy, and a loud machine gun laugh.
Night,
the sun would go to sleep, but the ground below was awake
in the shine of the moon, they would come in hundreds.
Hermit ***** would skitter across wooden floors                                                           ­       and blocked out the sand on the beach.
The people of the resort would gather in a beach-side restaurant called "La Buena Vida" or "Living the Good Life".
With its rope swings and crows’ nests, I’d linger in this pirate ship,
bringing my food up in a bucket and laugh down at the others.
Even the condos we stayed in were not familiar.
They felt like native Mexican homes, with the pastel color walls and creative tiled floor.
Falling in and out of sleep there was the ever present crashing splashing smashing of the waves,
and the lullabies of the night birds.
The sun would stretch its way out of the ocean in vibrant hues
and the hermits scurried back to their holes.

©Dylan Whisman.

the sun will always
set and rise --
but my mind is endless
it can't decide what weather
it wants to be today

well, yesterday it was sunny
even though it was cold and rainy
it was beautiful in my eyes

with my love, it's a montauk beach
day that's perfectly sunny and warm
drinking piña coladas

but god, when im not with him
it's just like yesterday's weather.
it's so cold, sad to be outside

maybe that's the weather today,
except no rain
it's just sad

Antarctica
let loose an iceberg armada,
enough ice cubes for ninety-nine zillion
pina coladas.
So have a couple, just chill, don’t spill,
as Earth keeps warming as you know it will.
You know it’s partly your fault,
but don’t sweat the gestalt,
just add some more salt
to the glass rim of your next margarita
while you ponder the meaning of Karma.
Though we all pay the bill
for the oil and coal we drill,
you can feel fortunate if you live mid-continent
and get the Manitoba/Minnesota discount-
less firewood to cut,
an early start to your garden-
while coastal dwellers have floods in their cellars,
the Eskimos lose all their snow,
rising tides leave drowned ocean islands
and islanders with no place to go.

La La Blues
Da Da clues
# % & * + =
Number, Percentages
and..plus >> + +
>.......Equal= play
stop broken heart
bottles day
Plain beat or
go_*
Don't lose my feet
Anything goes>>>
Well OOh La
Expensive shoes
Who knows?
Ode La La Da
Wicked concert
20-Twenty-carat
Trophy Comfy Wife
La La News
Ob La Di-Diana Chair
Ob La Da Queen Pair

Be a Lady_*
Sports Patriot Brady

Dear Prudence
Come to play
Star strangled
vocal cords
American Banker
Big corporation
Everyone American Express
cards impress yourself
Hello Enemies wave

Go Johnny Go
MaMa better
be good
Go Johnny Go

((New York Here's Johnny
Saturday night
SOOHo))
Woody Allen
Life is a gas
Jumping Jack
La boarding pass
Billy Idols Clinton Devils
Poison Ivy College
league hey
little sister
What have you
Blown_777...
The Made- man  U-turn
Mob face up eggs, the easy
Is the job done?
You're not the only one
enlisted?
White wedding shotgun

The Chuck Berry
Rock on souls fun
Make a U-Eeeeh U-
R-  officially
married

La La land
*** kit
The Bill ****
rode

 Gulf of Mexico
Pina Coladas
Yellow
  La Femme
Cosmic Blu
Fort Myers

Oscar Myer weiners
On the Barbie fatso gainers
Barbeque your Que
All Franks

Sunny in Philadelphia
Passing the bar
American women
The good Omen
Ode John Doe

Overstock  La blood Zone
Universal product
the code
phones Traffic
La La Graphic
interstellar

One still greater
besides the mode
Lovely Rita it's May

Hurricane the base  
Willie May
Mr.Alberto stormy
Barcode
Ode La La Da

The Beatles
Ob La Di
She's Blah da
Trade of Fruit Confetti
Life goes on
Ob Orbit PA Papa Gotti

diamond's spooked __

The Nutty
Professor Apple
Snap crunch crispy

Jerry Lewis
Ferris Wheeler
Bueller's day off
Molly Ringwall
Pink meeting
Moody Blues
Eiffel Tower Paris

Lord of the rings
Vikings of  Venus
The Exile in Xenus
The Egyptian

Nile Ode La La
Heavy heart smoke gets
Caught wanted lies
There eyes La La
Diamonds
Who dies??

There's something crazy going on these days
Down at the city zoo
The giraffes have joined the high society club
While the monkies are getting tattoos

The elephant's are packing up their trunks
And moving to the Bronx
With all the hippos on a diet
In an effort to lose their junk

The Lions have stopped lying
The cheetahs have stopped cheating
And as far as all their drinking
They're both going to A.A. meetings

The orangutans are the ones to blame
For a pyramid scheme gone bad
Left the zebras all in the red
When they lost everything they had

The crocodiles are out sunning themselves
By the pool drinking Piña coladas
While the mother snakes go on Maury
To try and figure out who is the father

Yes, things are a little crazy these days
Down at the city zoo
But if you were locked in a cage all day
Wouldn't you go crazy too?

During the most uncomfortable instances
I think back on the piña coladas and sweet cream
Still fresh in the fruit, still whole
The salty air left sand on
The creases of my eyes
We found medallion shells together
But I held my own hand then
And let the blue wet my shorts
Unexpectedly, there was nothing to be afraid of.