And Blondes Whistle Mightily

And blondes whistle (mightily) Groove and rhythm supplied By their accidental guardians Feigning lock-down on these Rancid, insipid rugged shores It's what's expected The triumphant stasis The settling down of Benign expectations Mixed coarsely with the Vinegar-garnished Toxic waves disguised as hope Fame and glamor The settling in of those Who (plead) their mere existence Laconic persistence To roam and dare And acquiesce to forms Much disparate from themselves Where and who were they Before the fall Their (coerced) lament Wrapped and pressed By an indignant Creator Lie your amble shamble Down square With the cracks which Suckle the (greasy) heat No scars to spare Envelopes with deranged matriculation Puncture the remaining pores Now everyone, even them Can wade (deep) into December Without barometric shift Gastronomic rift Or the means to remind yourself Where the days have hidden Somewhere plain yet hard to find Wake me once if your pleasure Grinds the senses weakly Wake me twice if all's redeemed The pageant gone And once again the blondes Tune their vacant chords Hustling into naked ensembles Flush with gravitas Conduct the many Swollen from the vagaries Of plucking One too many strings. (9/6/06)