King Missile

The air was breathing, but I nearly suffocated
In my sarcophagus
Where the antelopes wear underwear on their antlers:
On my mantle, memories recede, but cost of living
Adjustments dance the
Charleston at the Rosebud of resplendent nostalgia:

The walls are dripping, and tonight the faces are on the
Ceiling, are
They are suspiciously silent:
There was a fire tonight, when the world weary smile:
There was a pillow plummeting like invisible carbon in a
Passion play:

If this is only going from A to B and back again, how
Come when I clothes my eyes, I see bedsprings and
Excrement in deep focus:
Dirty deals that only I am privy to, elegant cobblestone
Goblets, bone
Orchard china, parsips and lichen:

Puke on me, Delores:
Are you married or lesbian, are you a celibate Buddist
Acolyte,
Or are you just detached and unavailable like me:
More to the point where are you : where were you:
I went to the high school reunion, and Delores, there was
No puke:

It's a sad lonely song by the barnyard, 'cause Delores
Ain't sick to
Her stomach no more:

My body's been altared
Drawn and quartered
A shower-the shower saved me
Saved me cut me bled me
Dead me, I would've been
Like as if it could've been
Oh, it never should've been
But why, I don't know
On the darkness, of the depth
And the blood and the body
Oh so badly shaken up
Like nothing I ever
And never you know
I cannot, I can't
Just give me some water to drown myself clean
Like I never have been
But I am
I cared and I stared
And I melted and cracked
And I never felt stronger than this I swear

If I could I would blaspheme my way to you
Just give me the courage and the glossary
Let me turn my own words against me
And perish in the process
Let my obsolescence blossom and propagate
Until every inkling of me passes away
Passes along, passes on

Lately, I've seen red
I've tasted blood
I've killed with words
I've wished and hoped and
Swam through a river of snot
Twice as wide as the mighty Mississippi

But I wanna know
About the commercial I saw on TV
An Irish guy
Walking through a field of green
Whistling one of those Irish jigs
And a woman walks up and says,
"Manly yes, but I like it too."

Then the guy pulls out a huge knife
And cuts off his first two fingers
And somehow catches them
In what's left of his left hand
And hands them to the woman
Did I mention they're both dressed in green?

Then they both sing this song together
"Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?
Are ya hot as anything?
Hey cut off two of your fingers
And stab yourself in the eye!"

Then he stabs himself in the eye
And hands her the knife
And she stabs herself in the eye
Okay? okay? so what about that?

Then they join arms
And do this Irish folk dance
While taking turns dismembering each other
This was a commercial for deodorant, I think
Or soap or something

So now all the body parts
Are lying in a heap
But the heads are still singing
"Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?
Are ya hot as anything?
Hey! get away from summer
And cut off all your limbs!"

Then all of the body parts
Start hopping and bopping around
Like little bunny rats
Then they jump into the mouths of the singing heads
But then they just slip right back out
Through the severed necks and keep bopping about

It's very beautiful music that's playing
There's an Irish flute
And a mandolin, I think
And the background singers sound
Just like the Clancy brothers

It's really a wonderful commercial
Spectacular
It must've cost a fortune to make

The kind of commercial you'd see
During the Super Bowl, maybe
Where the advertising time costs
A million dollars a half a minute
Wow, imagine that
A million dollars for a half a minute!

Anyway, by the end of it
It looks like the two of them
Have been through a juicer
Or a food processor
Or a blender or something
It's just a pink puree of blood, bone and flesh in a big bucket
But it's still singing somehow
"Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?
Are ya hot as anything?
Hey! Blend yourself, process yourself
Become a glass of animal juice!"

"Haven't you had enough
Of fruit juices and vegetable juices?
Next time company comes over
Offer them a cool refreshing glass of yourself!
Give of yourself
Stop being such a selfish piece of snot
Okay? Okay? Okay!"

"And now, back to our program."

A narrative framework
Another break with illusion
A cognitive fallacy
Imaginary reality
These are all lies
These are all lies
Nocturnal emission
Fraternal incision
Internal submission
Eternal division
All of this fakery
Artifice, trickery
Phoniness, fakery
Artificial, artificial
Taking it easy
This could be all there is
Taking it easy
Maybe it comes too soon
May never happen again
Saying it's all for nothing
May never get there again
May never happen again
Typical, typical
Typographical hypodermic
Demographic epilogues
Illogical dialogues
Biological monologue
Obsolete novelty
Original replicas
Typical typical
These are all lies

to live here now
lying down
living as one of the bloodless
having been down with bloodletting
having let all of the blood out
having been bled dry by leeches
having let leeches bloodlet you
lying lifeless and bloodless
you lie as you live
without life
lying lifeless and bloodless
living lifelessly
bloodlessly
bleeding without bloodshed
all blood having been shed
the shower of leeches that sucked you dry
the shower of blood that cleanses and dies
dyes you red dyeing
red lying
dead lying
bled shedding
bloodletting
shining in red
said the lecherous leech


lead
bleed
feed the red anger
drown in the shower
bathe in the blender
the sender-receiver of life
that you lie; that you dye as you bleed
as you flee like a leech
unleashed
released
deceased
insist
refuse
resist
transfuse
ooze
snooze
dream
awaken
get the lead out, let the blood out x8

Somehow we drifted off too far
Communicate like distant stars
Splintered voices down the phone
The sunlit dust, the smell of roses drifts, oh no
Someone waits behind the door
Hiroshima Mon Amour

Riding inter-city trains
Dressed in European gray
Riding out to echo beach
A million memories in the trees and sands, oh no
How can I ever let them go?
Hiroshima Mon Amour

Meet beneath the autumn lake
Where only echoes penetrate
Walk through Polaroids of the past
Future's fused like shattered glass, the sun's so low
Turns our silhouettes to gold
Hiroshima Mon Amour

He looked late 30's, maybe mid 30's
Tall, maybe six feet
I saw him in the Guatemalan clothing place
He was thin and hungry
They sold jewelry there too
I noticed some bracelets with Sanskrit writing on them
I think the woman behind the counder was Indian
Not American Indian, Indian Indian
She had a weird smile on her face as I walked in

I was looking at the bracelets
He said he was looking for work
He said, "I applied for work as a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a...dishwasher
As a dishwasher over at the hotel
I'll find out tomorow, but if they don't
There is six other places looking for dishwashers

She is smiling at him
And I'm realizing now hours later
She didnt know him
He says "See ya" and leaves
And I'm still looking at stuff

She looks real nervous
She's not Indian, too light skinned maybe
I don't know
But she didn't speak English very well
But he says "See ya" and I'm looking at stuff

I'm realizing now hours later she didn't
She didn't know him
She was just going along with him
And he was obviously not a customer either
Because he said he was looking for work

He applied for work as a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
They don't make a lot of money

Something was going on, he was desperate maybe
He went in there to try to sell something
No, I think he was trying to distract her
So he could maybe take something

He was thin and hungry and desperate
I mean he obviosly wasn't a customer
But I didn't figure it out 'til later after the movie

I'm walking back and I'm playing the movie back in my head
I'm playing the scene back in my head in the store

He looked late 30's, maybe mid 30's
Maybe six feet in the Guatemalan clothing place
They sold bracelets with Sanskrit writng on them
The woman looked light skinned
She didn't speak English very well

I should have done someting
I should have realized
I should have paid attention
I should have been awake

He told her he was looking for work as a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a...dishwasher

I didn't really get a good look at him
He looked like a dishwasher
I believed him

But, now I think he was lying
I think he took something
She seemed real nervous

I should have done something
I didn't know
I wish I had done something
I didn't know

Is she all right?
Do you think he...?
Did she identify him?
If she's dead now, how did you get my name?

I don't know any dishwashers
No, I never was in Vietnam
She definitely wasn't Vietnamese

Is she dead?
Do you think he...?
He looked late 30's
I think he stole something
Do you think he killed her?

He looked late 30's, maybe mid 30's
Tall, maybe 6 feet
I saw him in the Guatemalan clothing place
He was thin and hungry
They sold jewelry there too
I noticed some bracelets with Sanskrit writing on them

I think the woman behind the counter
Looked like she was Indian
Not American Indian, Indian Indian
She had a weird smile on her face as I walked in

I was looking at the bracelets
He said he was looking for work
Said "I applied for work as a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a dishwasher"

There was somebody else's tongue in my mouth (3x)
And I don't know where it came from
There was somebody else's hand on my tongue (3x)
And now my mouth is missing

Somebody should shut me up
Somebody better shut me up that's for sure
Somebody should shut my white ass up,
Sure a chicken fried steak

There was somebody else's fist on my throat (3x)
And I sure better learn how to rhumba

I don't know why
I'm always inclined
To end on a happy note
Though the point may be mute
Like a ten year old boy
With his throat
And his dreams
Ripped out by wolves

If most of us were wind up-toys
Could we trust the few of us that weren't
To wind us up when necessary?
I think not
We would be a separate oppressed minority
Even if we were in the majority
It would still be that way

The ones that weren't wind-up toys
Would have the upper hand
And we would have to look out for each other


Because they wouldn't

They would only wind up those that they saw fit
Those that conformed to their ways

If most of us were wind-up toys
It would be in our interest
To learn to wind ourselves up
Or wind each other up
That's reality
That's the way it is

I Wish I had a story to tell
I Wish I knew the story of the cardboard man,
Or the Talking filmcanister, Or the Spoon that Moved
I Wish I knew the one about the wise guru
Or the honest Lizard
I wish I knew about the dog that dressed like a cat,
Or the mule that walked like rock
Or the tornado who swam like a statue of Carmen Miranda
I Wish I knew all these stories or had the inclination to make them up
I Wish I could sit on soft pillows and drink molten lava
I Wish I could make love to the sky
I Wish I could eat the corn of Joy and Sorrow
I Wish the sky was green and my body was bright blue
I Wish I could talk sideways and backwards
I Wish I could drive the tractor of Innocence and return the the life I never
knew
I Wish I could drink chocolate champaigne
I Wish I had that Fax Number
I Wish I nothing could mean something and that everbody could have everything


Some wishes come true
Some of this wishes will come true
Others, are destined to become dreams deferred,
Shriveling up like grapes with sun tans,
But all is not lost,
No, all is not lost, not yet
I Wish I had 3 eyes, but of course, I have 3 eyes
I have clavoyant paranoia
I have precogant disetence
I have many other ways of seeing at my disposal
I have a garbage disposal, dinner plans and dog bisquets
I have many many options and a strong sense that freedom comes with in
But I shall never find it
Freedom is lost, Failure is just around the corner and the only thing that
Consoles me is the sound of my voice, and the fact that I don't cut myself
Shaving as I used too

The people here
Are so hospitable
They have given me their best blanket
And such soft pillows
They are so kind
I am crying
And i think it is violently rude of them
To make me feel so guilty
I barely know them
And yet here they are
Extending every courtesy,
And being so caring
And so considerate
That I just want to burn their house down
Right now
While they are sleeping

I don't know what it is
That is or isn't inside me
That gives me that empty feeling inside of me

A voice said to put it all down
Pretend that it's all just a lie
When the lamb and lion lay down

Side by side
Pigs will fly
Little one
Pigs will fly

I don't know what it is
That gives me that empty feeling
A feeling that can't be filled
With sex, food or coffee

But one thing I know
There is blood in the sky
When the lamb and the lion lay down
Side by side, pigs will fly

I see not, I say not
I cannot say why
I say not, I see not
I cannot say why

There is blood in the sky
There is mud in my eye

I will slur
And heel
And hem
And haw
I will eat a monkey paw

When you call me up and command me
To come over to your house
For sex and tea biscuits
I shall clandestinely drop my cumberbund
Down the dumbwaiter chute

Lutes will serenade us like liquid lemonade
You will glisten like newborn snow
And I will listen
Like a clairvoyant nipple clamp

It will be sex like nobody has ever had it before
In the history of postmodern lovemaking
It will be sex, even if it isn't
It will be sex, even if only in theory
Even if it's only pantomine
Even if it's just a memory
Or a dream
Or a symphonic approximation

After a summer of autonomous sodomy
And National Geographic specials
About the pretty animals
That use other animals as food by eating them
On television

But we shouldn't even watch television
We should just have sex
Epoch making
Earth shaking
Teeth chattering
Dish clattering
Fish frying
Eye popping
Never stopping
Bunny hopping
Toe tapping
Joseph Papping sex

Shakespeare in the park kinda sex
D train ride to Coney Island vacation kinda sex
Clandestine in the airplane lavatory kind of sex
Olympic marathon sex

All the different ways that we feel like having sex
We should
Until we grow old and bored and disillusioned
Then let us rekindle our feelings
Forget our despair and our celibate nonsense
And do it like bunnyrats till the cows come home to roost

So call me sometime
And let's have sex

One day
What if one day
What if I said
I wish I was a tree
And then, suddenly,
I was a tree
Then could I wish myself back?
No, trees can't wish.
What if I wished I was a wishing tree,
A tree that could wish?
What if i wished I was a toilet bowl,
And then I was one, and the wind
changed and I stayed that way?
Or what if I wished I was a toilet bowl
And suddenly I was a tree!
Would I be able to say,
"Hey! I wanted to be a toilet bowl, not a tree?"
No, I wouldn't be able to say that,
Because trees can't talk
They don't have mouths.
I would have to have the foresight to say,
"I wish I was a toilet,
But if by some chance I'm turned into a tree instead,
I wish to be a tree with
a mouth that can wish to be
changed back into a human being!"
Because I'd only ever want to be a toilet or a tree for a
very brief
period of time.
I guess this is the exact reason why they always say you
should be very
careful what you wish for.

In this happy sing-song hell hole
In this torture house of glee
In this perfect playpen prison
There's so much to do and see

On this euthanasia morning
Colorful carnival of pain
Let us drink delicious poison
If they won't let us
Let's complain

Genetic engineers
Crucified our sacred hymns
While flesh fell off our bodies
And we lost our limbs