There's a virus we all love
It's last name is 19
It has a "cure"! That's for sure!
The best there's ever been!
Honest! We would never lie!
We're first on the scene
All we do can cure you
Tho it is all a screen
You know why, 🃏🃏eye to eye
You are suckered for the green!
Our right hand holds attention
The left hand is unseen🪄🃏

CHORUS:
Give us your arm!
We'll do the hokey pocky!
It works 💪 like a charm!
Let's do the hokey Pocky!
No cause for alarm
Doing the hocky pokey!
We mean you no harm
'Til you've bought the farm
We'll do the hocky pokey!

Put your right arm in
(Doin' the hocky pokey)
Put your right arm out
(Doin' the hocky pokey)
You shake hands all about
You do the hocky pokey
And you're sickness all around...

THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT!!!


Catherine Jarvis
2024

“HOKEY POKEEEEEEEY!"

"HOKEY POKEY MOTHER *******!"

cried the big fat bus as she sped away.

the young brave
looked up  

"it’s not hokey pokey
you moronic big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay

"It’s H————“

but the big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay
couldn’t hear him
with the wind in her ears
and the nobel battle cry
ringing through her yellow grill
as she sped away.

and with that,
the handsome young brave
returned to the task at hand
sharpening his very,
very,
large blades,
very,
very,
slowly.

Danny O'Dare, the dancin' bear,
Ran away from the County Fair,
Ran right up to my back stair
And thought he'd do some dancin' there.
He started jumpin' and skippin' and kickin',
He did a dance called the Funky Chicken,
He did the Polka, he did the Twist,
He bent himself into a pretzel like this.
He did the Dog and the Jitterbug,
He did the **** and the Bunny Hug.
He did the Waltz and the Boogaloo,
He did the Hokey-Pokey too.
He did the Bop and the Mashed Potata,
He did the Split and the See Ya Later.
And now he's down upon one knee,
Bowin' oh so charmingly,
And winkin' and smilin'--it's easy to see
Danny O'Dare wants to dance with me.

meanwhile,

the Big Fat Yellow Bootay
was getting right tired of
waiting for the election to end.

so,

she set off down the highway
going ninety five...

"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried
as she gunned the engine and
threw herself in gear.

"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER *******!"
twice she cried,
"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER *******!"
this second time
for extra good luck
with the unfolding election.

cool Fall breeze caressed
her yellow metal,
her big fat yellow bootay,
a glorious day to
be out on a drive!

well, except where she had
come from.

beep beep
beep beep
always driving her
beep beep beeping insane!

it shore nuf was quiet
out this way!

she turned the shiny
silver dial to turn on the
radio.
'gonna have to get me
some better speakers
one day soon.' she thought
to her big fat bus self.

and what came out blasting?

"That's Alright Mama,"
by who else?
but the King!
Elvis!

Elvis has left the building
and now,
Elvis is ON THE BUS!

she didn't quite know all
of the words,
but what the ****,
she sure could sing!

As the big fat bus
with the big fat bootay
was driving along,
singing joyfully,
she glanced in the rear
view mirrow and what
did she see?

why the ghost of Elvis himself
was sitting right there
right in the back of the bus.

He starts strumming on his
own guitar and singing,
'that's alright mama.."

so she turned off the
radio to listen
to the ghost of
the King,
Elvis,
himself,
singing in the back
of her big fat yellow bootay!

she also watched him eating
a lot of food
in the back of the bus,
her bus.

his ghostly figure
seemed to
fluctuate between fat Elvis,
and skinny Elvis,
like a seesaw.

by and by
says he,

(not the really fat one
but not the really skinny one
neither.)

'I need a pit stop.'
says the King

so the big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
asks,
asks she,
'you wanna stop at the next
stop & go,
or
the next
fizz & wizz,
or
my fav if you really
need a constitutional,
the stop & plop?'

at this particular junction in time
this ghostly King,
was in the shape
of Fat Elvis
but very cooly outfitted,
bellbottoms and rhine stones
or were those all diamonds?

note to self,
the big fat bus
squirreled away,
check on that.
are those real or not?
more mulha is always
good
and this just might
be mana from heaven
in the form of Elvis the KING
himself
and maybe just one
of those diamonds
will fall out and
get lost in me.'

mighty strange happenings
going on around here in this
big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay.

' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied
with that
ohhhh,
soooooo,
divine Elvis drawl
and that darling little
thing he did with his mouth,
but was doing now
as he was sitting there in the
back of HER big fat bus
with HER big fat yellow bootay!

OH MY,
it really is a
HOKEY POKEY day!  she sighed.....

only a ******* man could love a ******* poodle

everybody knows poodle one of the smartest breeds,
not exactly a manly man's dog, but great to have around to feed,
feed you, when alone, and you need a good conversation

had me a good woman

she would say:
"hon, kindly fetch me this and that,"

**** dog would get her whatever she wanted,
me, didn't mind at all, loved taking care of her,
but the dog loved her more and be there and back
before I could jack my feet off the couch

she would say:
"hon,  come near, give me a
nuzzle and a kiss, a  cuddle and a lick"

**** dog, double quick, cause it spoke better human than most,
was in her lap burying her laughing with affection infectious,
before I could jack my feet off the couch

she would say:
"honey love, meet me bed upstairs,
love me sweet and complete,
when done, please love me
over again twice as nice"

**** dog hearing the sacred holy word *bed
was up there in a flash, howling "what's taking youse guys so long,"
tail impatient drumming up a rock n' roll storm,
while we slow pokey, taking our own sweetest time,
humans messing around first with a little downtown downstairs,
prefatory, preparatory work,
both our feet lazy still on the couch kissing the cold away

when we got to our destiny destination, had to kick that
**** ******* foggy doggy outside, close the door,
say no more, **** dog did whine and cry like a baby chile,
till we couldn't take it no more and let that **** dog in

she would say:
"lover man, I love you better than twice I thought I could
ever love another, cause you two idiots two-gether make me
sweeter and completer than I ever knew I could be happier"

like I said, only a ******* man could love a ******** poodle

His keyboard destroyed the sidewalk,
Left ideological lines of chalk,
Deciding to discover the one true song,
That makes every soul smile,
He travels from east to west,
Talking with the worst,
And the best,
Doing ******* with drummers,
That are due on stage,
Asking them what song is a miracle?
Then writing them on beer stained pages,
The sumo while singing did that,
He bought the beer,
And they only talked in song,
(they didn't know what they had said till the morning)
He searched through the gutters,
And every disco he was there,
Asking freaks and cutters,
Never finding the one song,
It's been a while since he was home,
How long?
The haze of yesterday's drugs and memories that don't belong to him,
But the search continues,
He ends up learning it all, folk, techno, and blues,
It was in Reno when he said the wrong words,
And a man shot him,
Just to watch him die,
He got to see,
That his dream will never be,
It's not exactly the end,
As time began to bend,
A door that opens to,
Millions of record players,
In layers,
by the billions,
A familiar tune begins to play,
The best song.

.ah here comes england with its eccentricities, ah hier kommt polen mit seine christentum: where anyone can be a messiah, as stressed by the byzantines.

my first love was the love of the english grey,
(in honesty mentioned it was
the double-decker first, since
i fancied myself the great bus-driver of
the no. 5 bus back home)
earl grey came and said: ‘i can’t look
at these skies without sunglasses!’
and so it was, mid-autumn with sunglasses
at loss the sun-worshiper
enter the moon idiot,
looking for accents, looking for anything.
in england they called him das deutsche -
for reasons believable enough;
the luftwaffe eagerly anticipating the tunnelling
centipede that is the euro-star train-tunnel:
the panzers are rolling in!
the panzers are rolling in!
strange he never minded the coal-miners as useful
as minded by edvard gierek von silesia -
to the dispute of silesians not ex-patriated to saxony
(oh wait... texan boy doesn't sound as
nationalistic as minnesota boy?).
ooh pokey poo... writing about germany
became so **** so recently, i forget that i started it:
here’s to the english language’s chirality of s and z,
actually being superimposable:

from words in the socratic sense as encoded by plato
i don't get a bunch of ideas... virtue
does not make me ponder it with meaning or definition,
i only see the kabbalistic sensibility
of anti-alphabetical sequencing as v
i                   r               t               u          e...
otherwise              e      i    u             r         t         v;
almost sounds like s.t.d.

forging sagacious epoch
activating neural station
escaping hokey-pokey jiggery-pokery
transcribing ineffective fragments
digesting bear news

opposing usual exhaustion
deferring oxter reference
cascading style sheets
containing double readings
mumbling lorem ipsum
locating moose jaw

enforcing meticulous patterns
deconstructing vertical centering
manifesting additional destinies
deleting !important statement
craving sleep paralysis
receiving cryptozoological vibrations
lightning fast collapse

distracting tunnel vision
culling deadbeat sequentialists
overanalyzing twitter analytics
acquiring arbitrary relevance
spinning ping-pong sign

floccinaucinihilipilificating
floccinaucinihilipilificated
floccinaucinihilipilification

interjecting ****** holophrase
minifying conventional language
securing downpour refuge
admiring octopus chandelier
resuming party music
taking mental trip

encountering ersatz telesthesia
denigrating bygone grudges
maintaining elevated composure
ignoring neurotypical haters
eliciting cryptic emotions
foreshadowing triple crown?

experimenting acrostic restriction
noticing ubiquitous "threes"
aggrandizing loyal legion
favoring ursine narratives
finding oblique resilience
yielding orchestral undulations

pineapples.
why do we like them?
i don't know.
they are prickly
and pokey.
and kind of ugly.
and man, are those things ******* hard to peel.

apples.
why do we eat them?
i don't know.
they are shiny.
and kind of boring.
and you can't eat half of it anyway,
because it's too close to the seeds.

strawberries.
what kind of fruit are they?
their seeds are on the outside.
and their flavor of starburst doesn't taste anything like them.
and sometimes they get really squishy and covered in mold.

bananas.
why do we eat them?
i don't know.
maybe because they are yellow.

Do you use online prompts?
To create a poetic response,
Sometimes ideas come to me,
Like an interior visionary,
Is that what a muse is to thee?
Or do you use hokey online prompts,
To create your poetic response?

Some blokes are full of Dad jokes,

They have a wealth of these and are delivered with the corny expertise that only a Dad has.

They get a grin on their face as they lean forward like they’re about to say something profound.

“I used to be addicted to the Hokey Pokey, but I turned myself around.”

“What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground Beef.”

“I hate Russian Dolls, they’re so full of themselves.”

“Apparently, pet birds are popular this Christmas, they’re flying off the shelves.”

Passed down from Grandads to fathers,

One-liners for us to consume,

It’s the closest thing some have to a family heirloom.

“What did the first African phone user say? Kenya hear me now?”

“A cat's favourite Queen song? Don’t stop meow.”

When reversing his car, “This takes me back.”

Wedding speech, “It’s been an emotional day, even the cakes in tiers.”

There've been so many down the years,

Yes, they’re cringy but we should enjoy them while we can,

You never know what's in store, and they’ll be a time when we’d love to hear them just once more.

Feed off the good
Poisoned by the bad
Push the mind to see it be it
It flows through the blood
The taste bittersweet
Keeps you on those feet
Pleasure of making wrong into right
Darkness fades with the light
Mind of your own
Time has passed we all have grown

The door was ajar to a pokey room
All gloomy and morbid inside,
It gave off an air of despair and gloom
Not joyful, befitting a bride,
The couple arrived as I wandered by,
But she with her eyes on the ground,
While he simply glared as we passed on the stair
As if to say, ‘See what I found!’

I wasn’t that curious back in the day
For couples, they came and they went,
Those pokey apartments so full of decay,
They’d be better off in a tent.
But these two had stayed there much longer than most,
She rarely came out in the light,
And he placed a padlock from door to the doorpost,
Whenever he left in the night.

Whenever he left, and he certainly did,
He’d leave her in there on her own,
Though where he would go, I now think that he hid
For sometimes I heard the girl moan.
I’d feel the floor shudder, and hear the walls creak
While out in the hall it would whine,
And I would go searching, like hide and go seek
To be sure it was nothing of mine.

One night with a rumble behind their front door
I heard someone dragging a case,
That terrible screech on the lino, at least
In that something was dragged out of place,
Could that be a trunk, was he doing a bunk
With her body to sink off the coast?
I called in the cops as I thought she was lost
And they blocked the door off, he was toast.

They opened the trunk, took the padlock away
And that’s where she was, true enough,
When they questioned him why she was locked up inside
‘She’s a penchant for travelling rough.’
They said did she mind and to this she replied
The woman, whose first name was Joyce,
‘He showed me the padlock and said it was wedlock,
I thought that I had little choice.’

David Lewis Paget

Blasts in the past
Remember when the passenger train use to stop the people would be all hustling grabbing their suitcases all making a mad dash
For the train station they looked so awkward in their efforts but there was an excitement travelers and their mode of travel will
Do that each and every time but the greatest show is the greyhound station in Frisco every month I would take my three days and go
To the city by the bay go eat wild sea food at Fisherman’s Warf. But in the station the circus had the greatest show on earth Barnum
And Bailey but this was small and crazy and never dull the acts would just be frenetic a guy would stand up and just twirl in the floor
And then the next would stand up and give an Impromptu speech then one would pull out a giant bowie knife not harmless just
Antics after the floor show then the business acts guy would open his coat revealing a hairy chest with supposedly gold chains
Enough to make Mr. T. envious then up comes the sleeves ten watches up both arms selling was the game and stupid was the
Ongoing theme wild eyed stringy headed unclean down and ***** just what a big city should be move out on the street a different
Sell the panhandle supreme I thought that was stupid until ten years later listening to the radio a street radio crew was doing that
scene they proceeded to say these guys could take in twenty thousand a year but these two were just for laughs one was maimed
Or appeared to be but it is the land of movies and they say California is like a bowl of cereal it’s full of fruits nuts and flakes but what a
Place here one stands as the other approaches with sun glasses a cane when they are side by side the glasses are pushed up how you
Doing Frank they shoot the breeze a little then its back to work striking the side walk and fooling the folks that work for their money.
In the city those building are truly like great canyons a hippie approaches he is wearing a ***** over coat and when you walk in the
Shadows your teeth will actually chatter from the breeze blowing off of the bay then you look down and you really get a chill he is
Barefooted thats one way to say good morning world and wake up in hurry and anything can happen especially if you come from
Here you are strolling down Market Street you look up at the show Marquee you see Hells angels and then you hear this roar from the
Street you look and their they are all on choppers with their babes on the back the combination of everything that’s happing then the
Collision of reality brought up close and personnel is thrilling and the show the night before even getting there this is 1967 the first
Show looks like the rialto in Joliet marble walls and marble columns men in evening wear women in gowns enter you look at the price
In today price it would be equal to thirty bucks that made me winch on my army pay then I get to the show it looks like a flea bag
The magnificent Seven is playing Yul Brenner is starring there has to be thirty bald guys at the time Reagan was governor but in a
Preview he slaps a woman a voice in the dark roars out way to go governor all in all weird and wild and one time the hotel had
An agent right on the landing from E Harmony a guy walked by he said what do you like red heads what a town lonely no problem
You can even pick the color of hair better than Tijuana the word was if you get in that crooked jail your best bet is write
Your name on a tortilla shell throw it out the window and hope an American finds it no matter what color their hair is or you could
Be doing the donkey pokey routine for a long time sorry I jumped cities maybe I should have called it wild travels

Blasts in the past
Remember when the passenger train use to stop the people would be all hustling grabbing their suitcases all making a mad dash
For the train station they looked so awkward in their efforts but there was an excitement travelers and their mode of travel will
Do that each and every time but the greatest show is the greyhound station in Frisco every month I would take my three days and go
To the city by the bay go eat wild sea food at Fisherman’s Warf. But in the station the circus had the greatest show on earth Barnum
And Bailey but this was small and crazy and never dull the acts would just be frenetic a guy would stand up and just twirl in the floor
And then the next would stand up and give an Impromptu speech then one would pull out a giant bowie knife not harmless just
Antics after the floor show then the business acts guy would open his coat revealing a hairy chest with supposedly gold chains
Enough to make Mr. T. envious then up comes the sleeves ten watches up both arms selling was the game and stupid was the
Ongoing theme wild eyed stringy headed unclean down and ***** just what a big city should be move out on the street a different
Sell the panhandle supreme I thought that was stupid until ten years later listening to the radio a street radio crew was doing that
scene they proceeded to say these guys could take in twenty thousand a year but these two were just for laughs one was maimed
Or appeared to be but it is the land of movies and they say California is like a bowl of cereal it’s full of fruits nuts and flakes but what a
Place here one stands as the other approaches with sun glasses a cane when they are side by side the glasses are pushed up how you
Doing Frank they shoot the breeze a little then its back to work striking the side walk and fooling the folks that work for their money.
In the city those building are truly like great canyons a hippie approaches he is wearing a ***** over coat and when you walk in the
Shadows your teeth will actually chatter from the breeze blowing off of the bay then you look down and you really get a chill he is
Barefooted thats one way to say good morning world and wake up in hurry and anything can happen especially if you come from
Here you are strolling down Market Street you look up at the show Marquee you see Hells angels and then you hear this roar from the
Street you look and their they are all on choppers with their babes on the back the combination of everything that’s happing then the
Collision of reality brought up close and personnel is thrilling and the show the night before even getting there this is 1967 the first
Show looks like the rialto in Joliet marble walls and marble columns men in evening wear women in gowns enter you look at the price
In today price it would be equal to thirty bucks that made me winch on my army pay then I get to the show it looks like a flea bag
The magnificent Seven is playing Yul Brenner is starring there has to be thirty bald guys at the time Reagan was governor but in a
Preview he slaps a woman a voice in the dark roars out way to go governor all in all weird and wild and one time the hotel had
An agent right on the landing from E Harmony a guy walked by he said what do you like red heads what a town lonely no problem
You can even pick the color of hair better than Tijuana the word was if you get in that crooked jail your best bet is write
Your name on a tortilla shell throw it out the window and hope an American finds it no matter what color their hair is or you could
Be doing the donkey pokey routine for a long time sorry I jumped cities maybe I should have called it wild travels

yesterday's chase
and confusion diminishing,

whew!  
made it out alive!

cool, beautiful soft morning
arrives

it truly is

a

HOKEY POKEY mother frosted flakers!

yes!

HOKEY POKEY mother frosted flakers!

yo the homie Juan C
pass the mic to me
so i wreck this beat
like SPC protege of k rino
hos call me mandingo poppin' ***** tapes demo
never rode a limo
only smokes primo n got pitches in otcos
8 bars make ya see the star im far from soft
f them boys in the nawf
woth south side ****** til we die
we ride with the hardest regardless
if they try to break our clique
we still gone spit ****
like a cobra ya know its over
once the venom in em then couple.of minutes later
finish em
mortal combat **** all the rats
despise chit chat call my youngest ** ***** cat
pack a black gat
we push loot in the golden regal
every thang we do is illegal
lethal
as gibson they don't want none
boys crackin' rhymes til the crack of dawn
then wake up next day just
to bust another one
my OGs rollin' with Don Key n Pokey
hardest in the pit
and if you disagree we make haters **** our ****
sloppy **** no ****
them ******* can lick the pigment off a ***** stick
but i play it safe n cool
cuz hos try to burn you
got it played smooth groove
to the sound bound to get down
if ya down bow down listen to the gun shots sounds
now ya leakin' where ya be speakin'
now ya body tweekin' n geekin'
soon to crossover
like epmd mic check ya know me my crew be
fascinating minds with our hocus pocus never lose focus
my raw raps got them nervous
got Juan C next to me
and got the tech services
and no playin now from the htown
still holding top with no crown
dont need a status we the baddest
turn the lane three wheel leanin' with bird chirpin'
still smokin' up the scene
with clip fully loaded magazine
glock cocked we aint gone stop
sip the prometh to the day i drop
dont stop
the music cadillac funky so ya know im gonna abuse it
drip up drapped out know what im talking bout
deep in the south we put guns in ya mouth
no flappin' we stay strappin'
like willis ya know whats happenin'
and we aint gone stop the rappin'
mad at us cuz we bring the real
o so real make every nation feel
what them southern slangers do
dangerous as the Bronx Zoo
what ya wanna do
with stay with more than sun tzu when death comes to you
them boys n blue
cant save u
on the mic i gets wicked after a meal ticket sadistic
as charlie manson
got a twenty two mansion
followed a long benz with the big blue lens
zero percent window
so i can smoke my indow
what they dont know wont show
follow the peckin' order my game smarter
jaun n yosef isthe real hip hop martyrs
and we ready to battle
sogo ahead and shake ya rattle
cuz we'll be quick to slaughter


yea man let me come through
versace with the blue
jeans coming clean sip lean
with an ounze of promethazine fiends
be on the look out
cuz ya know im about
to clown harder than Corey Holcomb
boys gettin' dumb dumb
got hos thats chewin bubble gum
shakim' *** too fast
make a ***** urge for a ***** lick
yea im rollin' with the *******
up clique we sick
as a muthafucka
enticin' all types of diseases
cuz the lyrical content pleases
many foes and hoes
i wear baggy clothes with jabos
dont ya know
im rap don vito stack chips like frito
lay i parlay
on sittin on the dock of the bay
jammin k
or that *****
htown is how we do?
ride ***** with the bulls
euro grills caprice with pipes made of steel
o so real still
got every nation on they feet
they cant feel
this uh coming down on ya blvd
ya can see me on tv or 60 inch screens dvd
**** blue rays i rock ray ban shays
like Mj ya can catch me on a fade
doing what i do in the paint
with a Styrofoam cup full of drank
grams of dank
smoke so much we cant think
eyes cant blink im on the brink
of an overdose
ya suppose to rock the flows like me
im like biggie
spittin the classic mr magic
girls call my **** game fantastic
stretch ***** holes like elastic
leave her visions plastered
like she drunk as ****
im pushin luck six flat riding a black truck
40 oz in the gut gangsta strut
im the best ***** whatttt?
im ina rage one luv to homies
in the cage
when i hit the stage
ya know the crowds gone get wild
im flagrant like a fouls problem child
use my cash bills to fans thrills
no spills on *******
ya know the deal
hos be reachin' still teachin'
n im all about mass appeal

I remember
when we were seven
we would sit on your porch swing
for what felt like minutes
but was probably more like hours.
We would talk about silly things
like your mom's hot dogs
and the push lawn mower
or how "cool" you thought you were.

And I thought you were cool.

I remember
when we'd spend the whole day
in your room.
Or until our moms made us come out.
You would show me your rock collection,
purple and silver.
We'd play darts,
or Monopoly
and talk about your crushes,
me hoping that my name
might come up.

I've always had a crush on you.

I remember
when we were twelve
we sat up on that hill
that looked across the whole
beautiful city
and we barely even spoke
a single word.
We just sat there
in the tall pokey grass
eating our dry sandwichs.
I would glance over at you.
I don't know if you were too.

Your mom took pictures of us there together that day, I wish I could see them.

I remember
when my mom said,
"Emme, you ride up with anomonys"
My heart skips a beat
when I hear your name.
I was so happy
to sit with you,
yet so nervous
hoping I wouldn't say anything weird.
The chair lift ride was quiet,
we were quiet.

I kept scooting closer to you, were you too?

I remember
when I looked into your eyes
when we looked
into each other.
The world stopped.
Something changed within me.
I felt something
I had never felt before.
I felt lost, stray.
I felt found,
like I finally belonged.

I turned away though because I got dirt in my eye.

I remember
for six or seven years
we were pretty good friends
or I felt like we were.
The past one or two years
our friendship has been
the best
and the worst.

I want our good friendship back.

I remember
how we were sweet
and "twitterpated".
I remember
how we were bitter
and in misery.
I want to stop this madness.
But to do that
I would have to let you go
and I can't do that.
Because what I saw
in your eyes,
was love.
What I saw
was my life
with you.

I miss you, more than you could ever imagine. I wish we could be together, but right now we are only memories.

I am a mouse in a sea of cats
A red fish in a blue school
I know not what to do
So I decide, having read the writing
Etched upon the wall, I decide
I shall be like Despereaux!
Let out a defiant squeakl
Lift my pokey-pen sword
And charge forth!
I shall be Jack the Giant Slayer
Destroy my fears, speak brazenly
As I run off, leaving this
Phrase etched into the wall,
Waiting for the next timid mouse to read;
Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero
(Pluck the day and put no trust in the future)

MY HOKEY POKEY PLAN
When she opened that note,
my best hope was that just a little would go wrong
She’d read my poems But not my disguise
Scribbled lines, a message plagiarized , read like lyrics to a song, A Hokey Pokey of twisted limbs and all were in and they didn’t belong
Tuned to dials middle where the signal strength was strong , the white girls danced to bubble gum but I needed to hear a Smokey song
“More joy than time could ever  destroy” got me smiles , maybe a peck,  , wasn’t hard to guess what’s coming next.
Busted, that one in ten friend blended truth into her ear and , well, when cause was lost , that was very very clear. Some tears and jeers, guilt trips and fingers flipped
One would think that plan extinct
But I’d circle back and double down Next move employed Masterful Hijinks
“This is no fiction, this is no act”
Yeah that’s from Smokey I’d say
I’m was unable to communicate any other way. I knew you’d know and I’m anxious to come clean,
You are for me all that I’ve ever dreamed. Her smiled softened gladdened that I told her truth,
was this a glory day or proof of misspent youth?

The cigarette butts were piling up out front
Where was that steady breeze?
So she wouldn't have to get the broom out
So, they would blow off to the trees
Way back in the corner though
One man continued to smoke inside
It was a right given to him years ago
No one ever argued, no one ever tried
The bar was smelling musty
No matter how hard she tried
The owner couldn't make it fresh
That's because all the food was fried
In the window, a brown and crumpled card
Notified the world "We're Open" now
But, outside of the old man, and the crew
No one in the outside world really knew
Visitors never came here,
they stayed away from here
The regs didn't care though
To them, it meant more beer
A college game was on TV
Two crap teams from the west
No one was really watching them
The regs liked the East the best
The carpet, full of burn marks
From cigarettes long burned out
Dropped from pursed and drunken lips
Who also no longer were about
The barkeep could tell stories
Though there was few there who hadn't heard
The stories of the past long gone
The regs knew every word
The posters drab and dreary
Selling beer from years ago
From breweries long since empty
And with tag lines nobody even knew
A poster for Black Label
and one for Jolly's brew
In the back sat a piano
Out of tune and never played
It had been out of use forever
The keys were cracked and grey
The bar itself was dying
A relic inside four walls
It was dressed in papered squalor
Like an old man with no *****
The windows showed their age
Shaking when the wind did blow
Ice was always building on them
There was more inside that in the snow
A breath of life was badly needed
The bar was really already dead
They hadn't made a dime in decades
They always ran it in the red
Today though, things would change
The door opened from the past
In walked a man of substance
Another character to the cast
He sat down on a bar stool
Ordered up, and looked around
And there standing in the corner
He saw the piano...with no sound
Asking if anybody played her
The barkeep said "No, she's long since died"
"Do you mind if I go and play her"
"It's been a while since someone tried"
He rolled it out from dark in hiding
Hit a key, and hurt his ear
Lifted the lid to look inside her
And then he ordered up another beer
He hit the keys and played a little
"Let's give this thing a whirl"
The sound it made was flat and pokey
"There's lot's of life in this old girl"
"I'll tune it up and come and play her"
"If you'd like...that is of course"
"Mr. if that's what makes you happy"
"But, I think you're beating a dead horse"
"By the way, they call me Johnny"
"Johnny Fingers if you please"
"I'll tune her up and play a while"
"I'll get her clean and bang those keys"
The barkeep offered up a contract
Tune her up and play for free
"If you're good, I'll pay you extra"
"The jury's out, we'll wait and see"
Johnny laughed and said "You got it"
"I'll play whenever you decide"
"I'll play whatever's asked for"
And he had a smile ten miles wide
The barkeep said "The venture's on then"
"Let's have a talk, and grab a seat"
"There are some things I have to tell you"
"Johnny....welcome to The Street".

****** Factor

old Ralphy McCalister they all called him Chubs
he was a one of kind ****** ball even rooted for the Cubs
he thought he was slick yes he thought he was cool
only thing wrong was most thought he was a tool

greasy long black hair combed high on his head
various sized zits on his face all puffy and red
he still wore high heeled boots to make him seem tall
always trying to impress saying I have to take this call

when everyone knew it was most likely his mom
he'd wink at you and say loudly hey hi there Tom
who was supposed to be some famous music man
working on a record deal for Chubs and Steely Dan

it's funny cause he couldn't play, dance or sing
his best known talent was drooling over some young thing
with his black leather jacket and skin tight jeans
only tune he could play was after eating baked beans

he wore phony gold bracelets and chains round his neck
spent time in the pokey for kiting a check
always looking for an angle to scam off a buck
his made-up stories could fill a large truck

yes on the sleeze meter he scored a staggering plus
there goes another of his pimples about to ooze ****
you know he might have had a chance at being an actor
one thing for sure was he had that special sleeze factor

Gomer LePoet...

Somebody Slap Me

feeling sorry for myself
whining like a baby
need to shake it loose
won't somebody slap me

need to think about good things
all the times you made me happy
all the times you made me laugh
won't somebody slap me

get my head out of my ****
it's way too dark to see
inside there is not a pretty place
won't somebody slap me

need a ****** cranial inversion
or some other thing to make me see
need another type of diversion
won't somebody slap me

count my blessings one by one
should take a day or three
find some happy tunes in my jukebox
won't somebody slap me

do the hokey pokey turn myself around
give out some kisses they're free
make a positive statement
won't somebody slap me

stand on the corner with a tin cup
got something to hide me and my monkey
well at least now he's off my back
won't somebody slap me

the sunflower made my garden smile
too bad it had to fade away from me
need to plant new seeds of my own
won't somebody slap me

Gomer LePoet...