Immensely big judges help a little girl named Micks
commit tax fraud in the realm of invisible tricks
tiny turtle with an umbrella on the end of his high hat strobe
set foot in the abandoned purgatory of this slice of the globe
roses rallied in the real respite of a ravaging rain
Little Micks would forever not quite be the same
Determined to become a lawyer now.
Disappointing parents who believe attorneys to be low-brow.
An Indian summer
decamps, marches South
like a defeated army.
Coats are pulled out of closets,
cars winterized.
Wizards in long white robes
hunt the moans of castaway witches.
Autumn memories lure cats away,
but they soon return to the fireplace,
to stretch-out the longer hours.
Babies are coddled closer,
the sky goes blank,
amnesia deleting its colors.
There are omens born on chill winds,
sparrows go mute
in the frosty hedgerows.
November takes off its high-hat
revealing a bald dome,
when you go out alone,
you feel its gelid marrow
hitchhiking its way
through creaking bones.
A place to raise your glass
or raise the hair right off your head
Where liquor flows and tongues will wag,
be warned of what is said
A place where open secrets
bare desires to fulfill
And nearly every fantasy
to satisfy at will
Anonymous in nature
are the patrons you will find
And you can be yourself and
take a trip of any kind
Wedding vows and high hat bows
are left outside the door
And once you dare to come inside
you’ll find you’re wanting more
How to find this wanton place
when you’re up to no good
Just turn the corner, take the path
and penetrate the wood
This place is so revealing
you cannot miss its sign
A hidden space, clandestine love
its name is by design
Who might you meet, a husband
or a wife inside this pub
Just take a stroll inside your head
for therein lies “The Rub”
A lady "as fat as a blimp"
Went to work for a local pimp
Her big toothless grin
Invited men in
She was proud they all went home limp
Her pimp declared her a winner
"Beauty's skin deep!" said a sinner
A man in her queue
Said, "Listen to you!
Come on, and I'll help you skin her!"
The vicar put on his high hat
Shouting, "Sinners are just like that!
Oh, where is the shame?
We all share the blame!"
One and all kept chewing the fat.
back in the day where hustlers stayed there were those very afraid
he was born in the gutter his momma was a vamp selling her junk in the trunk of a car
up all night slept all day he was blown from the frey
viscious fangs that bite two turn tables with a mic insisted on a fight
sucking the innocent patrons for blood right in the hood like you knew he would
Rapula the man, the myth & the legend
could very often see him in the back of a seven eleven drinking red slurpees
took folks block by block like giving him a heart attack just to fit his mold
no one came against him until that day in the crib Rapula lost his lobster bib
very often you will see him at the 8th Street Station spinning his records
there will never be another blood sucking brother so move over he's taking cover
Rapula wore a high hat tip on his temple driving a white Benz looking like Baretta
My own rags to famous rear view status
Counting coins, chasing chaos, catching corners
No stage but life's notorious performers
Missed my bus, recapping my future past
Bone broke dreams, now rocking a killer cast
Actin' as a star but as an extra I thrust
My word in the hat, mainstream is a bust
Leaving tracks on trapped beats
Riding steps tuned to high hat heat
Loose to reality from the high game
Noose to gravity pissed in drunk fame
Making sense to cents in mind
Shoulder to rock, been on the grind
Caught in a Cats-hat
You obviously admire the bestiality of a canine,
Hence , you probably find me rather asinine
And the confident swagger of a *****-cat
Is grossly superior to the airs of this pretensive plutocrat.
So you will , alas, never be my concubine,
Due to my propensity for the libertine,
(not to mention the table wine)
I do not have the means of an autocrat
And have only the sensibilities of a pornocrat.
Your disposition to adore the canine and the feline
Makes me feel like a philandering Philistine.
I will always be such a yellow-dog democrat
That I quite threaten to knock off your high hat.
And now for the denouement, my valentine,
For your humble blessings I repine
For the company of furry, felinous, feral Sumi-cat
I do so miss inhabiting her habitat.
g Tiberius
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