For Mecca

And we wonder what you see

outside your DIY fences

when you look behind those lenses

not the ones on your camera

but those hugging your ultra

sharp eyes- held back by squinted lids

as cigarette smoke seeps from your lips

You say you’re not deep

but please don't even try

we all know the bullshit hill’s too steep

for you to climb, too foul for your kind

that's why we don't waste time

in moving along, and dancing along

and singing along

with you in your car

that’s as sweet smelling as your scars

Drive us, miss daisy and break the silence

Deliver us from these sullen awkward moments

Your laugh is a racket; warmer than a jacket

your wisecracking knocks our lightbulbs off their sockets

But you can be cold too, colder than Busay

where we used to shout out songs and wave goodbye

to sadness and say hello to madness,

breathe in our awesomeness, puke out all the mess

in the nearness of us.

Sing us a tune, please, miss muppet

and frighten the puppets

that screw us on tuffets

for days without nothing to do , to feel ,

to inspire us to heal

from this blahblahblah normalcy

this healthy existential complacency,

Oh miss daisy please have mercy,

give us a fever as hot as summertime,

perhaps a moondance or a funny valentine

It doesn’t matter if your volume’s sublime

Doesn’t matter if we end up killing time

waiting for your rhyme to fill the room and mime

every single person with the crime

that’s your heart, bleeding

and we drink from it, humbled, believing.


Happy Birthday Geng, thank you.