“@Paula Doo”
Last night,
I spoke to a certain someone
Who calls herself small and mighty--
A doer of great things,
Who cuts her hair every cancer scare,
Who camps a stare off into the sunsets of eclipsing eyes
And swears the whole world's all her fault.
The earth quakes and separates like biblical red seas
As a means to continue her ventures
Despite Pharaoh's disapproval
And the lines drawn in white sands.
To the devil and his stepdaughters' surprise,
She's taken it all with a grain of salt.
The good, the bad,
The facts of life,
The ugly opinions
That stink of ass amongst stubborn mules like us,
The jokes that laugh easily the evenly yoked,
The mistakes we've made on purpose,
All of it had an answer.
It happens. It all happens.
We shared gasps and spasms like spaghetti
Made to leave multitudes fed fuller
Than the amberjacks and loaves of daily bread
Ever could.
It was EPIC!
This emotional, powerful, independent creative
Broke all the rules and put them back together
Like a choir of cousins for one more tour de france,
One more time around the world
In a deep daze that dives underneath the sleep phase
And dreams of our smile being the coup de grace.
It was a trip through the scenes!
The dips of Freudian slips on wet floors
That result in dances through the depth
Over stubborn mules with sober minds
Crashing highway borderlines crooked.
Sorry, but I mistook it all for amazing.
She said she was falling for a while,
I saw it all as taking herself through the air with style.
She falls so slowly, it feels like she's flying.
Floating on God's troubled water
On borrowed time
Premeditating the pettiest of larcenies upon Peter
To pay Paul
Via PayPal
So that nary another Michael gets gypped
Of her existence.
Surely, you would think the disciples
Had something to say
Seeing her seated in the center
Of the loneliest highway
Between the lanes, fearless
Hoping a bowling ball
Would strike her out of despair
As a matter of fact,
I'm sure they did.
Jesus Christ! She's had a life.
Sorry if I...
Sound like her contagious charisma
Gave us both constipation of the brain
And diarrhea of the mouth.
But I'm not...sorry.
Forgive me for my child-like excitement
Whenever she dances past the baby steps
Of remembering how to walk forward again.
I can't...help myself.
Matta fact? Don't help me--help the BEAR!
Help the beer out my bottle and onto my shadow's lips!
Word's on the street; all ears to the concrete?
Legend has it that we are best friends
At first sight
Like rabbits in Cadillac headlights
I don't recall how I got here, but I'm sure to stay.
Still beside her until our duos and duets are done.
Who needs sleep when bittersweet dreams
Are made of these?
Whispers in the night air that songspeak in the key of peace
Sounding like the first 37 seconds
Of David Bowie's "Rebel Rebel"
Before the actual words are heard
Were the Doo's...I paid attention to.
