Wednesday, December 23, 2009

GRANNY SMITH OR RED DELICIOUS

Clearly New York (ain’t got) nothing on us
Their “quaint” street corners, and grime riddled stiff cuffs
Punctured pig roasted porcupine hipped nicotine puffs
its cloud dissolving to cobblestone paved side streets erupts
Like bubble forming elitists, tipped to the top, eye-focus adjust
With an air of overcast soaring on their wide-framed bust
From where they walked the Bowery, handled side street short cuts
disemboweled St Marks Sushi like a pro;
Fondled toy poodles, opened them up, spread their guts
In front of PETA and they only scoffed
blemish on a boot toe,
dropped a Blackberry in a street crevice puddle,
Ass-smelling like must
deep as their Crevice hanging from tramps stamped in disgust
Vamp waist lines, held with thongs like narrowly hanging Vines, must
too devine, longing to die on the line
rather than become A vintners best press
as I might, but that is why we are not thus!

Honestly, New York is minced meat in our presence,
Meatpacking district, “fag” for the faux paux of the faux essence!
They hide behind shades while tempting the sun, their sleeveless presence
this Vest sextet indented death threat of a thought caniving day dreaming
And then denying fraught peril by a shirt proclaiming Errol Flynn's present!
Our relentless gaze through visored eyes, on cloudy days, isn't
Where we “saunter” like they saunter, notice their quotations absent
Missing, hidden under their drone breeze-filled-chocolate-covered
Steak riddled little entres. I am not angry, but…”I am not gonna lie,”
Her eyes remind me of jarbled words spit out and revolving,
They too getting spun around, and regurgitating clasped curves dissolving
to esophageal goodness. Frankly, and I say this “loosely” problem solving
Could you think it more fitting, like a room, in a chic saloon of dodging
Haughty-taughty fashion-ista delight, where belly buttons flaunting
Curl below exaggerated sags and shoes point three sizes too-jaunting
Too- much! Oh and when she said at it looked like @! that was haunting.

Presently, BQE to Williamsburg, is the way to go, flow it
Red and seering with cramps and uterine lining, let me show it
As the east river does like the east river does, like the hudsy blows it
Floods it’s untainted bottled water into salt infested Liberty incumbent
Waiving Sperm Whale ejaculating, sperm wail away at the abundant
Way we sift between Man Hat On, dipped in tails and foot loose kermudgeons
Not so fancy freebie of an evening cause honey he has got nothing
Honey they have got, honey, we have got, baby she has got, something
Darling, cobble hills got, Slim Williamsburgs got, Babes, now erupting
NYC has got everything on me, I see it, it’s in that window their, pussing
It’s below that taxi cab tire, it’s in that bicycles basket, in the waft, its judging
Of your fart steam rising, and I swear, fuck, if I curse, shit, if I say nothing
these wooden slats below my feet, red delicious line the slats as they creak
I swear if i Get one more worm from this apple I am gonna fre@k!