plead your case. the silence that follows will deafen your prayers... it will eat your rain.
tread where smoke has layed eggs in a nest of flames.
use your thoughts nimbly, and thereby, climb the ladder madly

humbly gone by love, my love.
humbly gone
by love.


these are not the words in my mouth. they are god's frogs. a soft plague of cecil b. demille with ampibians and barbedwire. these are not the fickle neptunes in dischord. you are not the last unicorn. only the basilisk in my zodiac. my marvelous queen.

these are not the feathers of a proud crane. but a wrecking ball reassembling a dandelion with a leather whip and a chair. they tumble from my limbic intimacy with your private lies. i bring genuine venom to cure blindness; but i leave an antidote under my tongue should your kisses beg to be a fool.

i won't say what this is.

i have bruises where your name left a dent in my kevlar.

"One thing good I can say about the hotel,
There were plenty of skanky crack ******
Strolling the boulevard.”
So began my Expedia travel review.
As usual, I got less than I’d paid for.
My review title:
“Next Time, Sans the Engineering
& Construction Inquietude.”
Pulling into the parking lot
One immediately recognized the scene,
A modern version of Cecil B. DeMille.
The 10 Commandments.
Pyramids of Egypt
Reconstructed, Escher-like
As a 21st Century construction site.
Oh, yes,
Everything Habib had in mind
When he subcontracted
The entire task to Hershel--
Hersh from Kanersh--
The famed,
But cursed
Jewish architect.
I digress, yes, but only partly.

Noise-induced stress, anyone?
The electrified multi-frequency drone,
Saturates like a post-war Levittown
Sea of Cape Cods . . . cods?
Bacala: stiff, salted, yellow & oily.
Cacophony:  a Festivus for the rest of us.
Oh yeah, Mr. Costanza.
Post-war?
Hardly, the mahogany wax
Still faintly, freshly sober,
New cards shuffled.
New cards dealt.
At that mahogany conference table
We weep at stacked decks,
Aces & Kings for the privileged few
Deuces & treys for the hoi polloi.
That hinky Bretton Woods poker game,
Convened while the war went on,
WWII still raging, guns still firing,
Tanks still rolling & rolling along.
There sat the Ruling Elite,
The 1%--as they are calling us these days--
We didn’t even offer
Our Gold Star mothers,
A moment to
Hold their breath.
Not one decent interval of silence.
Nein, nein, nein.
It was let’s get back to business.
Capital resuming its
Uncivil War on Labor.
First, add decades of slow boa squeeze.
Inflation, insidiously mocking Calvin--
Your ethos of work
In smithereens--
(Smithereens.
[From Irish Gaelic smidir n,
Diminutive of smiodar,
Small fragment.] ...)
A recipe for Sisyphus,
Your down-the-ladder warped reflection
Stares back at you as your
Up-the-ladder false hopes
Go escalator bye-bye; and by,
Staring at you,
Pinning you to a wall
With Econ 101 clarity,
As taught by Karl,
Another wily Jew:
It is a treadmill, after all,
Noting again the clever juxtaposition
Of a Jew and a handful of Christians,
Devotees of random Protestant sects.
The following link is a gift to some struggling writer @wattpad.
(Who Cares ON HOLD INDEFINITELY Chapter Twenty - Page 1 ...
www.wattpad.com/4225578-who-cares-on-hold-indefinitely-chapte­r-twe...‎
Apr 22, 2012 - Leanna was totally stunned by this and immediately halted in her tracks and began to scream at such a high decibel, Opia could hear her ears...) That’s right, another commercial in the middle of a ******* poem. The proceeding link was a gift to some struggling writer @wattpad.@*******.
Expedia Review:
The Windemere.
Its last syllable from Old English 'mere',
Meaning 'lake' or 'pool'.
A magical name
Reeking, swirling through your mind,
Lavender & English lakes
With steam ferries.
Ne c'est pas?

I arrived at the front desk?
The computers are down,
Having earlier that day
Been hacked into.
No restaurant.
No bar.
Nowhere.
Scaffolding & drop cloths,
Everywhere.
Construction materiel,
Everywhere.
When you finally get your swipe card,
You Notice that the “Buy One, Get One”
Pizza promo, laminated on one side,
Expired about 5 months ago.
The drive to the room
Is wry recognition that
The Windemere Hotel
& Conference Center*
Is actually a ****** motel.
Backhoes & cranes,
Everywhere.
Multiple, out-door spaces
Sectioned off with police
Yellow crime-scene tape.
Everywhere.
Railings on balconies
Appear to be seconds away
From giving way.
Odor, anyone?
You can count on it,
The moment that electronically-challenged keybox
Gives up its flashing green dot ghost.

Most times you get less
Than you pay for.
$47.00 a night?
Please ask,
Next time,
What's the catch?
“WHAT DID YOU LIKE ABOUT YOUR STAY?”
Again, Numb-nuts,
You think it’s a poem.
But it’s actually my
Fakokta Expedia Review.
WHAT DID I LIKE?
This one I had to think about,
Coming up, quickly . . .
(An advertisement generated by algorithms for your amusement follows)
. . . ***** Spray for Premature ******* - Web Site - the home page. www2 rochesterhomepage.net/...Premature-*******/CHedfhhlmkmt-i...‎­Aug 2, 2013 - ***** Spray for Premature ******* Spray Helps Men Last 6 ... 54% of the men in the placebo group delayed ******* for more than one . . .
Coming quickly with Dwight David Eisenhower,
The man we liked & called IKE.
When asked if his VP Nixon--
Running for President himself,
In a tight race with JFK—
Had distinguished himself in any way
In his 8 years as his Vice-President?”
IKE replied:
"Give me a minute and
I'm sure I can think of something."
Not a ringing endorsement.
IKE knew something
The rest of us had to wait for 1973,
Reserving a room at the The Watergate,
Close to Foggy Bottom & Georgetown:
THE WATERGATE HOTEL
& CONFERENCE CENTER,
Just like The Windemere,
Another ****** motel.
**** me! What was I thinking?

Not to mention lack of privacy,
Be it acoustic or visual and,
In one case a veritable DEA bust.
Crack ***** in residence next door,
Cranes her neck around the balcony wall,
A would-be nurse, perhaps,
Offering home hospice &
Concern for your raspy,
***-smoking cough.
Her pox face bursting in on
The long anticipated
Marijuana Miller Time.
On the veranda, early evening,
Lighting up your first joint of the day,
Desperately in need
Of some herbal peace of mind.
Ne c'est pas?
Her big crack-***** head
Giraffes like crazy around the wall,
Invading your balcony space.
*******? Who was that?
Let’s lock the doors.
Let's hunker down for the night,
Taking turns keeping watch,
Like a couple of shitless scared
Grunts of the DMZ.
(Urban Dictionary: scared shitless www.urbandictionary.com/define. Ph?term=scared%20shitlessIt's when you scare someone to such an extent, you scare the **** out of them, at times causing them to excrement all over the vicinity . . .)
The Expedia Review goes on:
Anything interesting about the surrounding area?
Oh, yes, as previously mentioned:
Plenty of crack ******
Strolling the boulevard.

Hey, Windemere Hotel,
*** am I doing in Mesa, Arizona,
Two days shy of the summer solstice,
And 119 degrees?
That's another story.
But for now,
Hey Windemere,
Here’s a tip:
Next time it's total facility makeover time,
Shut the **** hotel, please.

By: David W. Clare

Hollywood town has seen all kind of characters from infamous to bums!
The hippest of all, exclusive dive bar that's been there forever; will outlast us all...

Not your typical cowboy-trough or rag-joint hole-in-the-wall...

No dancing allowed as silent drifters, hipsters and ******: **** on olives then ask for more...

Dress-code strictly enforced; some meet there to get married, while others get divorced...

You'll be sure to meet up with Humphrey Bogart and Cecil B. Demille, young **** chicks and a fat-director over the hill...

Be sure and tell the bartender you'll be back, he will surely remember your tie, coat and hat...

Welcome to the Frolic Room...


(C) In perpetuity all rights reserved
(P) FilmNoirWorks

Like so many hundreds that day
He eventually reached his destination
The European shores of refuge
Dressed in his Sunday best
ready for Church in his new land

We stood by with our global media
to welcome him at the water’s edge
but he would not speak as usual
his mum said he was a shy boy
Still we clicked our cameras
beamed our global images
and moved on to the next story

He lay there alone – black and blue
watched by a policeman - unsure
how to handle this crime scene
not sure if it’s in his jurisdiction
a foreign child washed up
on the water’s edge
spewed out of the ocean belly
rejected twice – at home and in the sea

The meticulous autopsy revealed
that he had a swollen head
still full of grandiose stories and lies  
told by his mum every night
fantasy stories that kept him warm as she dragged him
walking mile after mile after mile like weary soldiers

In his heart he carried memories of a new country
where he would be free of fear, have food to eat
be able to play with his sister - not worry that
his neighbourhood would be shelled again
He boarded the rickety boat – head held high
pretending to be a brave young man - even though
he was terrified of water and unable to swim

I sit at home in my warm sofa watching the news
thinking how cruel this mother could be
to put her child through a horror such as this
how could she make a child walk for miles and miles
how could she put him on an unsafe overloaded boat
how could she act illegally and so irresponsibly  

I sit at home in my warm sofa watching the news
thinking why Europe needs to be burdened with Syrians
thinking why rich Arab countries will not take in their own  
thinking why Christian countries have to give home to
Muslim fundamentalists opposed to the teachings of Christ

When I’m done with dose my self-righteous thinking
a child shows up on my flat screen TV
washed up on a lonely shore
I switch off the TV but his image haunts my dream

I see a Syrian child - head held high
walking out of the icy Mediterranean sea
leading a band of desperate children – exhausted, broken
scared, starving, smiling with renewed hope
My dream seems to end like the deMille classic
the Egyptian chariots sink into the bottom of the sea
The children are free in the land of milk and honey

Only this time, from the promised land of refuge
a thousand chariots or more come rumbling down
along train tracks, cargo vans and police trucks
rounding up children to transit camps
where death is sure
for a hundred, thousand
six million more

Stanley Arumugam
13 Sept 2015

Quirky thought emerged with other things on my mind

and bid me notice, now

Quarks and humans have some things, in common,

characteristics, char acter ist ich bin fertig

for my close up, Mr. DeMille.

Charming, left right, up down, top bottom, in out, strange

that's eight, quarks are said to be of only six sorts, flavors

no in out, how odd, even I can't see why

every dimension we measure is ternal
ternality, ex or in, determines the spin,

which seems a shared state, neither in nor out,

Sanity, the state, is quarkish, too, like that.

up, down, top, bottom, strange and charm

From <https://www.livescience.com/18141-wacky-physics-particle-flavors.html>

I get it. We work. Quarks work. We both make things be.
We matter, but a little bit,
like salt. Maybe. Salt with all its saltness still in tact.

Headmaster’s son
Skipped class
Entered theater
Life to Alter
Matinee show Shaheed
Worshipped Dilip Kumar
Like many before
Dreamt about Movies
Like a few followed up
Won Filmfare talent Contest
Frontier Mail to Bombay
Promised film stalled after start
Struggled even for a bit part
Anonymous in stature
Mononymous in Name
Debut in 1960
Finally part of filmdom
Small role
Mentor Arjun Hingorani
For a princely sum of fifty and a cup of tea
Still a novice
Women centric movies
Romantic lead in the Sixties
Meena Mala and Nutan
Supporting role with passion
Step by step rise
Salary raise
Accepted every role
Occupied was his goal
Villain to Jubilee Star
Filmfare Nomination
Sunil Dutt first choice
Destiny's voice
Phool Aur Patthar
Set on fire
Box office Register
Superstardom attained
Humility retained
First Action Star
Christened He Man
Shirt removed on Screen
Greek God looks
Women Swooned
Top ten lists
Most beautiful men
Ranked seven
Romance and Melodrama
Bollywood formula
Action film as chosen path
Rode the Lone road Superstardom under grasp
Looks Delivery and Fights
Made fans of Men &Women alike
Blockbusters galore
India's Superhero
Hit after hit
Audience explode
Cinemas full
Entry to Dress Circle
Needed a Miracle
Action and Drama
Tragedy and Comedy
Range of talent and skill
For one ticket fans would ****
All performed with ease
Endearing fans with range
Complete Superstar India’s Gain
Rajesh Khanna with Aradhana
Took the Nation by Storm
Adulation never seen
Sensation by definition
Costume Mannerism
Copied by every Indian
Every Star took a fall
Rajesh the magician
Stars faded into oblivion
Mass hysteria
Across India
First Superstar
Next 5 years none on par
Giants’ wayside
Stood his ground
Equal number hits
Second to none
Dedicated Fans
Built over a decade
Common man
Still wanted the He Man
Action and Adventure
Helped endure
Glorious career
Storm passed
Many faded
He never dated
He was fated
Test of time
Passed with Jubilees
No obstacle for water
Flows through all
Fridays proved
He’d never fall.
August 15 1975
Saw the release of Sholay
The greatest Indian film ever made
Said the Great Master Satyajit Ray
Top billed in the cast
One film showcased talent all
Action, Comedy, Drama
Cannot tell the Character and Actor apart
True quality of a genuine movie star
Many giants in the cast
He did help some get the part
Ensemble film
Even though the biggest star
Did not want to stand apart
Final product always in his heart.
70 mm Surround Sound
Entire country Theater bound
Never seen action sequence
Racing high the crowds pulse
Music Score by Burman
Records sold by the Million
Every dialogue known by heart
Salim Javed knew their craft
Ramesh Sippy knew to bring them all
Extremely well acted by the cast
Never will be another Sholay
Present future or past
Not to be seen but experienced
Its not a film but a phenomenon
Greatest Story ever told
Greatest cast ever assembled
Was the Tag Line
Global Indian Population
Viewership the film got
Not surpassed till now
Never will be
Every city town or village
Across the entire Country
Full house boards were not a mystery
Number of years it had its run
Till today box-office records undone
Yeh Dosti with Manna Dey and Kishore Kumar
Greatest  film Song picturised
Sizzling chemistry and male bonding
Friendship the central theme
Bullet with side car
Everyman’s. dream
Zanjeer with Amitabh Bachchan
Birth of the Angry young man
Indian Cinema never the same
Reached Pinnacle
Rode like a Colossus
One Man Industry
Steamrolled into one
Every Aspirant pushed
Donning Supporting Role
Every Reputed Writer, Banner and Director behind
Thirteen years
None had a career
Superstars became former
Stars to Supporting actors
Newcomers extinct
Old timers jaded
Galvanized Nation
Every release
Celebrations for fans
Faded festivals
Another Superstar
Bigger and Better
More popular than god
Elevated to one
Neither shaken or stirred
Matched Bachchan
With box-office Gangbusters
Hits became a habit
Fans and public
Yearning for more
Whatever the competition
Stood his ground
Megastar or Superstar
No dent to this Farmer
Paired with Hema Malini
Record Successive strikes
Result was Box office gold
Many a Phoenix
Flashed and Vanished
Shorter reign at the top
Never could topple him
From the moviegoers heart
Superstars became Supernovas
Younger generations
Had come to stay
Still stood in the fray
Never one to give way
Always had the final say
Held cash registers still in sway
Replaced Relegated
Never to be
Another name for longevity
Turn of the century
Completed 4 decades in the industry
60s 70s 80s 90s
Times changed
Many faded
Some retired
Contemporaries eased into character roles
Later lot fared similar
Star Sons made their mark
His sons did their part
Dawned the new century
Multiplex and wide releases
He never ceased to be a draw.
Man with a very big heart
Gave breaks to many a director and star
Never bitter Never insecure
Thanks people for making him a Superstar
Gratitude and love
His trump card
Became the Symbol of friendship
His Chemistry with Amitabh
Deep from the heart
Reciprocal in nature
Their oneness
Greatest gift of God
For the entire Country
Will be celebrated
For generations to come
Amitabh and his name
Always mentioned together
For every moviegoer
Till kingdom come
Till the universe remains
Etched in the hearts
Is his name forever
Can never be erased
That's true loves power
Men want to be him
Women want to be with him
Oldest cliché used for a star
Suits none better than this man from Punjab
60 years completed
From Meena to Mallika acted.
Done films with his son
Now with Grandson
There’s no one on par
Who's lasted so far
What can you say
About an Actor and Star
Captured a billion hearts
Transcended generations
In this delicate world of films
Who cannot be confined to any era
This timeless living legend
Is called Dharmendra.

While giving away the Cecil B Demille Lifetime Achievement Award to Martin Scorsese Robert De Niro famously said that Mr. Demille will be equally honored if he were to receive the Martin Scorsese award
Likewise Mr. Phalke would be equally delighted to receive the Dharmendra Award

You won't believe this But it's true
Life is sometimes stranger than fiction, at least in my world it is

Near my house across the road there's an American Style Diner
They do all kinds of lovely Hamburgers and fries, Chicken burgers, Pizzas and whatever
They also do a lovely full Irish breakfast Bacon, egg, sausages, black and white puddings, hash browns, fried tomato, beans, mushrooms big *** of hot steaming tea or coffee and all the toast you can eat
(I've been over there a few times)
It'd keep you going all day long, very nicely thank you.
There's also an Oil Depot office attached to the Diner with Oil trucks parked along the side

Now back in the Winter of 2021 with the Covid scare/epidemic at its height
My Oil for heating the house was starting to run low
So I rang Peter the Oilman across the road and asked him to deliver me some oil
The next day the truck comes over and fills up my Oil tank
The driver leaves the bill in my letterbox
I have the next day off work so I say to myself I'll go down the supermarket tomorrow
Get some money out of the ATM machine and pay the bill (as you do)
So the next day I get in my car, now there's a big hedge in front of my house, like for privacy
So I can't see what's going on along the road
Well I drive down to the front gate and suddenly my jaw, it drops I can't believe what I'm seeing
The Police (the Guards as we call them here the Garda in the Irish) they've cordoned off the road
And are directing the traffic
The American Style Diner has been taken over by a film crew... it's a film set
There's big lights and cameras, all kinds of electrical equipment and Vans parked
There's people going around with clipboards
And they've put up this huge giant Elvis cut out statue type thing in lights
Him in a white rhinestone suit with his guitar
And it's towering over the Diner
And I'm there looking at all this thinking "What the ****??? Is this reality or am I dreaming, somebody pinch me quick
This is... this is feckin' Alice in Wonderland
Between getting funny dreams and having funny things happen to me
I can't quite believe my eyes
It's like the circus has come to town
Or it's like... it's like remember when you were a little kid at school in the Winter and there's snow and you hate school
And suddenly the school boiler would break down and they'd have to send everybody home
It was like Great! Hurray! Chaos... Freedom had suddenly broken out
Here was just another ordinary humdrum day and now something extraordinary had happened.

I could see Peter over in his office, it looked like he'd been cordoned off too
So I decide to go down to the shop and get some money, do a little shopping and come back quick
When I come back the Guards have now left the scene
I count out the money to pay the bill
Then I walk across the road right through the film set
There doesn't seem to be any security men there to apprehend me
(maybe they know I'm just a local, no one says anything, I'm like a ghost )
I walk real slow, with my profile jutting out like a bust of Julius Caesar
I'm half hoping someone will shout "Hey you! Stop!!!
And it'll be this Director or Cinematographer with a lot of camera lenses around his neck
And he'd be looking at me through one of these camera lenses
And he'd be saying excitedly "That face! That face!! it's just what I've been looking for
It's exactly what I need
It's... Why...It's the Face of 2021"
Alas! It's not to be, no such luck
I wave in at Peter in his office
His door is open, I go in and say "What's going on ?"
He says "Their making a movie or a TV series I think it is, they needed an American Diner so they took over the Diner and done it up'"
Peter's there standing behind this persplex plastic type (see through) screen
And he has this strange black plastic type mask on his face
He looks like Hannibal Lecter out of Silence of the Lambs
There's a side window in his office and outside on a bench all the actors are sitting there waiting to be called for the next scene
I say to Peter "Is there anyone we know, like Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp, Angelina! Angelina!"
"No", he says,"their all young actors, I don't know any of them"
Looking at Peter I say Y'know they should be making a movie about you, you're a real live hero
Everyday over here, rain hail or shine, during an epidemic, keeping the country going, keeping the houses warm, the businesses running,
(I was reminded of that Greek god chap Atlas who used to hold up the heavens)
Then I say nodding my head as if I've just figured it all out
"Y'know what, their making the wrong feckin' movie
You're the Star here, they should be making a movie about you
I'm gonna have a word with the Director
Peter starts laughing
I have to resist the urge to tell him Y'know you'd make a great villain
I pay him and thank him, tell him he might be a movie star next time I see him
When I'm back outside again I start walking real slow again, it's like the film Sunset Boulevard this time
"I'm ready for my close up now Mr DeMille"
But alas! no one heeds me, it's like I'm the Invisible Man again
I think to myself "I'm getting worried, The Hand of Fame it's getting closer every day
I can feel it
One of these days it's just gonna come out of the heavens and scoop me up
And bring me off with it some place

But who'd want to be famous anyway, reporters nosing around asking you silly questions all day, trying to stir something up
People staring at you all the time and taking photos
Would be a pain in the ****,
Wouldn't mind making some money though
The old pension fund and all that...

By: Cedric McClester

If you’re trying to figure out
What it’s all about?
Money! there’s no doubt
Flexing muscle and their clout
With the insults that they shout
Without a platform they can tout
They just go the cheap seat route
Then pontificate and pout

See they love to pillory
Anyone named Hillary
With accusations, as we see
That may or may not be
Yelling she’s not trustworthy
As they bring up Bengazi
Or emails we didn’t see
Making them the poison tree

And then once they get elected
Ain’t it just as we suspected
It’s so easily detected
The people’s needs just get neglected
Because our votes are not protected
By the ones who we selected
Makes us wonder why we checked it
See their actions don’t reflect it

Although it’s a bitter pill
It’s like Ceeil B. deMille
Cast them in a movie - still
They won’t do the people’s will
And by now we’ve had our fill
They can never fit the bill
Because they’re run of the mill
And that is why they make us ill






























Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015.  All rights reserved.

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

      “Anglo-Saxon Students Would Not Like to Be Taught by a Jew”

                                                      cited in
                   -Stanley Kunitz Lyrics, Songs, and Albums | Genius

To the Privileged Youth of Columbia University:

As a child of situational poverty
I am so grateful for all my Jewish teachers

Including

Moses
Joshua
Jeremiah
Samuel
David
Solomon
J­esus, Mary, and Joseph
Saint Peter and the others in The Twelve
Saint Paul
Elie Weisel

Chaim Potok
Herman Wouk
Leon Uris
Franz Kafka
Leonard Cohen
Anne Frank
Bernard Malamud
Isaac Bashevis Singer
Philip Roth
Osip Mandelstam

Saul Bellow
Isaac Asimov
Woody Allen
Mel Brooks
Edna Ferber
Yip Harburg
George Cukor
Mel Brooks
Oscar Hammerstein
Alan Lerner

Carl Reiner
Rod Serling
Franz Werfel
Alan Arkin
Claire Bloom
Leonard Nimoy
Chaim Topol
Ed Asner
Mel Brooks
Peter Falk
Werner Klemperer

Jack Klugman
Walter Matthau
Tony Randall
Mel Torme
John Banner
Kirk Douglas
Lorne Greene
Eli Wallach
Sam Wanamaker
Morey Amsterdam

Leo Genn
Otto Preminger
Jack Benny
Leslie Howard
Ernst Lubitsch
Cecil B. DeMille
Mortimer Adler
Allen Bloom
Harold Bloom
Irving Berlin

Boris Pasternak
Emil Ludwig
Eric Wolfgang Korngold
Elmer Bernstein
Max Steiner
George Gershwin
Dimitri Tiomkin
Samuel Fuller
Alexander Korda
Zoltan Korda

Emeric Pressburger
Erich von Stroheim
Billy Wilder
William Wyler
Fred Zinnemann
J. J. Abrams
Peter Bogdanovich
Michael Curtiz
Stanley Donen
Stanley Kramer

Howard Caine
Leon Askin
Robert Clary
Dinah Shore
Stephen Sondheim
Volodymyr Zelinsky
Simon Schama
Louise Gluck
Siegfried Sassoon
Isaac Rosenberg

Joseph Brodsky
Rob Morrow
Vasily Grossman
Stanley Kubrick
Viktor Frankl

And more, so many more, a cloud of witnesses
Whose names are written in gold on a scroll in Heaven

But somehow, in this world of beauty and truth
And humanity’s aspirations to the good
All you have found are bullhorns, trash fires, chants
Clinched fists, obscenities, lies, and shrieking hate

Down the dark alleyway,
bodies strewn to both sides,
cardboard boxes inhabited,
the stench of life wafts.

Glowing in the darkness,
pure white against the dirt,
a form emerges, alabaster,
venus de milo proportions.

Naked, she walks, new to the scene,
perfect ******* bounce in time,
to rhythmic steps,
makeup, coiffed, and ready Mr. Demille.

New meat for the grinder,
the predator's grin,
their bags and needles on display,
free samples here.

A ****** cherry ripe for picking,
the spoon heats and flame crackles,
the needle, borrowed, pierces the skin,
the statue begins to crumble.

EMPTY ORCHESTRA

"Oh no!"
my reflection couldn't
help but blurt out

"You're not going to
give me that
sad face again...are ya?"

I smiled
but my reflection
didn't smile back

don't ya hate it
when your reflection
gives you a good talking to

tells you to
"Laugh for gawd's sake!"
or "Look lively!"

puts me in mind
of my mother when
I was a surly teenager

she's long gone now
so my mirror takes on
her nagging role

always telling me
what to do or
what's what

I comb my scruffy hair
apply a little lippy
fasten a smile to my gob

I pout "All right, Mr. DeMille,
I'm ready
for my close-up."

I dive back
into the noise
and crazy chatter

grab a mike and
in my best Karaoke
belt out "I Will Survive!"

my mirror
would be
proud of me

"...back
from
outer space!"

Queueing up to queue to get to
the front of the queue and they're
all behind you just to remind you
that they are queueing up too,

the lines are never ending
the queues are always forming.

We've become a production
a Cecil B DeMille,
'The whispering chorus'
of wannabees,
most of us
over the hill.