Danimal Dan was Green, reusing every hand-me-down
the dumpster offered.
stipend half our middle class allowance, so the Danimal
could get his fix in unison with ours.
slab dual twenties in his oily callous hands.

while sluggin N’ sloshin’ his cheap wine,
the Danimal returns heroic, with red lips
and pink teeth, handing us “licka” boasting new
apocalyptic theories
the sky is full of creatures,
deys plottin’ yessir, pilots
   known for years, but Big
Washington Wiggies, keep
Uhmmmm zipped, yessir
hired dem creatures, “population
control” to **** eat America
leaving only the Finest.

the Danimal’s vision flashes, giant winged
Salamanders kamakazie dive from the sky.
fat white collar Cons offer bribes as they ****
fantastic fear all over their linen pants.
some auction children as the Danimal
arrives with an army of America’s finest
staggering out of
back alley bars & soup
kitchens
they shake Salamander hands
Slurring welcome
with Bourbon breaths

when the constancy of our denouement extends the brevity of our insight
then by trade, our revelations remain on pause.
hint-riddles parlay
between actual dilemmas.. foggy as breakfast
on Venus.

simple as that.

a slow notch in a providence.
a bespoke omen, trumping
a tarot deck-
with a block party hookup
made of glad gardens
of actual touch-
where the emptiness
has no skin,
per say-

but everything
your heart desires
flays a shadow
with a wet
kiss

and **** the heathens.

ripples
in flat ponds-
are gathering ladybugs
as countermeasures
befitting-
such espionage,
at the forefront of
every facade.

a feckless
supplicant with a
tootsie roll
begging an owl
to count
a licka’ sense
as the center
of Love’s
madness.

to “...bury me with my courage!” I quote a spoon.