“deep south” by L. K. Thayer

hormones a raging
can’t remember what’s up
just that it’s all
breaking down
going deep South
give me a mint julip
make that a double
sit me on a porch swing
but hey,
wait a minute baby
I ain’t ready to go
out to pasture
just yet
you betcha, not yet
stay in check
hold on, suck it in, slurp it down
get it up,
swing it over my shoulder
whatever I gotta do
it ain’t quittin’ time, see
I’m fightin’ false tooth
& hang nail
I don’t wanna give up
just cause gravity
is beatin me down
I will tugboat, this barge
up the river
paddle my
cottage cheese ass
over the falls
adopt a Southern drawl
cause this babe is just startin
to spread her bat wings
different bat time,
different bat station
time to sing,
time to dance,
time to shout
I am not down for the count
you cannot
me the fuck out!
L.K. Thayer
© 2013

Joe Kennedy

The theme from an old western wafted through the big room like the faint smell of pancakes after a long winter of old potatoes and rusted hinges creaking in a frigid gloom of dusk
the sound welcome after the relentless drone of the machine the one keeping the swollen interior at constant sensation not too much not too little the tonal rudder of the thing unchanging an autistic pianist obsessed by the striking of the one key without pause
bifurcating my viscera gelding my ungendered gonads pissing on the sheen of my serenity
I wanted to find the source of that singular discord and defenestrate it the sonic frowst
of the mezzo-soprano whatever eating at the edges of my virtue the one I never had in the first place.
I wanted to throw an old jockstrap at it, order it some bad clams and make it suck em’ down.
I wanted to buy it a lifetime subscription to Readers Digest.
Oh, oh wait! That’s my punishment, that’s my beat-down, my Chinese water torture, it doesn’t have a brain, no awareness, no self-consciousness, no brain cells to rub together, it’s just a motor, a noise box, moving parts repeating its task, a sonic meditation I found irksome, yeah
that was it, I was irked, it should be the other way round, silent, quiet, still, but it isn’t. Shit.
Inside myself I tried bonding with it, breathing, accepting, caressing, crocheting.
My feet hurt. Suddenly I got that fat feeling like I just downed a gallon of ice cream and couldn’t move. A harbinger of doubt tickled my innards, and suddenly I was in the cut, surfing, robot seagulls moaning dizzily above, the twilight singing, sea creatures without eyes calling my name, I knew I was dead, and yet quite alive, kissing a sonic boom box of pure love, a popsicle of purity, an envelope mailed by a mime holding a seamless message inside.
– Joe Kennedy
(Joe writes & reads his witty poetry in Los Angeles)
© 2013

“It’s a Small World” by L.K. Thayer

heart in abyss
Ya, you know this OKCupid site?
Ya, a lot of hits and misses.
This dating thing is outta control.
A one stop shop
wham bam thank you ma’am,
coffee bean, tea or me,
dutch treat, trick or treat,
hey what’s your sign, wine and dine
text me when it’s over.
You got me?
Mostly gay divorcee’s that aren’t gay.
Lot’sa types who have never lived alone that say,
“I’m easy going, no drama”
What the hell happened then??
Did they go through their marriage in a coma?
Get thrown out on their ear?
Just put one flip flop in front of the other
and they wound up in the dog house,
bowling too many gutter balls,
ya just struck out…
Right pal?
How the hell am I gonna date a guy who lives in Annaheim?
The last time I was in Annaheim,
I was stuck in swirling teacups with “It’s a small world after all”  playing over and over
…getting seasick.
What is all this Mickey Mouse & Minnie live happily ever after crap?
After what??
After 4 marriages?
After the rice falls?
After the spare tire & the love handles take over?
After the after shock?
After the dinner mints have dissolved?
Hey, the gist is, I don’t need a seismologist
to know, just because a guy has a big…portfolio
I’m gonna trot into the sunset singing happy trails partner.
Hi yo hock your silver, and away buddy boy,
Cause hang on Buster,
this is gonna be one hell of a
bumpy ride.
© 2013