August 2013

Vic Wooten at Variety Playhouse 

I've heard of mens' dress 

black velvet shoes, 

of times past zippered row, 

and crossings at elevator junction road

 of Kaleidoscope washing cycles

and fantasy raspberry roller skates,

of green money vests   

spinning away 

in ‘Charlie's Sure' detergent tide

 I’ve heard the 'Done Cakes'

in the Sugar City stage parade, 

and the greedy tare of sirens peel,

from a jelly bean lush,

gobbling at the air,

from which,

under darkened and clappening skies, 

I found shelter; 

an apricot torpedo butter breaded sham.

 of penny slot sink holes 

slicked to a shine 

with meat oils, and slither

in the fame star state of Mississippi  

 I've lived in the time of the '12 Soft Eggs' 

spread japanese jams on rye,

I’ve dozed on bellies filled with seeds- soured catch kids, 

burning under a thumb of shameless sky, 

between long lists of sharpened green leaves,

of 'Panic What Grass' plains in her cleavage and heaves.  

 

I've feared Lester,

his crackers and fangs,  

his seven stop, 

two bounce, 

Tupelo jive,

his warm and popish, digestive mutter, 

his fester, 

his tight hole taring buckle,

his kibby-kin-likeish fingers, 

glassy and beaded with humid,

his crud rusty cups. 

 I've had diamonds of dilemmas. 

Sucked down drum fulls of Ruby’s Nice resinall, 

straight from her gaping goblin maw. 

 I’ve sanded my legs 

now down to pegs. 

 I’ve been forgotten,

forsaken. 

 

And at the cracking of my heart,

I’ve been mistaken,  

after turning right, 

at the second light, 

onto Elbow King Bottom's Road. 

 

  

 

I've feared Lester,

his crackers and fangs,  

his seven stop, 

two bounce, 

Tupelo jive,

his warm and popish, digestive mutter, 

his fester, 

his tight hole taring buckle,

his kibby-kin-likeish fingers, 

glassy and beaded with humid,

his crud rusty cups. 

 

I've had diamonds of dilemmas. 

Sucked down drum fulls of Ruby’s Nice resinall, 

straight from her gaping goblin maw. 

 

I’ve sanded my legs 

now down to pegs. 

 

I’ve been forgotten,

forsaken. 

 

And at the breaking,

I’ve been mistaken,  

after turning right, 

at the second light, 

onto Elbow King Bottom's Road.