Dead As Disco

Dead As Disco

Episode 666: “The Number 69”

[Opening Applause]

Intro:

let me lay my cards on the table:
his bark is worse than his bite:

i –
rattle your cage
with out of the box
thinking white man’s
rage against the cliché

[Laugh track]

going forward-

a long row to hoe
a horse of a different color
a chip off the old block-

like a bull in a china shop

play the hand that you’re dealt:
not playing with a full deck

a deer in the headlights
for money doesn’t grow on trees-
a fly in the ointment!
mama used to say

“pass the peas”

 

[Laugh Track]

on the same page?
I’m a drop in the bucket

[Commercial Break]

[Opening Applause]

making $ cash money $ hand over fist
beat that dead horse
by the skin of your teeth
come hell or high water
rotten to the core

when hell freezes over

[?????????]

throw gasoline on the fire:
we’re gonna tie one on tonight-

not to toot* my own horn
‘oh that old ball and chain
turn over a new leaf

what a lame brain

now clean as a whistle,
sound as a pound
walking on egg shells

what’s wrong with this picture                                                   ( Hell’s bells )

[Aaaaaaawwwwww]

[Commercial Break]

back from the dead
dig yourself into a hole
free as a bird-

hold your horses

I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached

frown faces
in the real world
the blind leading the blind-
a no-brainer

like there’s no tomorrow

[ *toot.,  vi., vt. [echoic]  Ye Old English way To have a jolly good go at one’s nostrils, by banging pure Columbian white bam bam; Still South America’s chief export here to the home of the brave Herself—n. a short blast. Can be fatal ]

[Laugh track]

[Simmering Down (silence is golden)]

some words to the wise:

death may come quick
in two shakes of two lamb’s tails
we’re all up shit’s creek,

riding coattails

so pull the wool over your eyes:
epic fails

until the cows come home
no politics and religion
garden gnomes.

the lights are on but nobody’s in those homes

we only did it for the money
at the end of the day
true love is blind

one man’s refuse is another man’s treasure-

wine and dine

the number 69

fuck

stop on a dime.*

[Applause]

[Encore Chant]

* as in:  she is fine as wine+

+ wine n. [ < L.vinum ] Gets better with age

Outro:

was it right up your alley?
end of story
what’s not to like?

mourning.

glory.

but certainly not least:
nice guys finish last:
organics
&
John Lennons

dead*

peace…

[Closing Applause]

[Roll credits]

[Commercial]

 *the most unavoidable of them all it would seem.

              After hearing the common and quite frankly cliché complaint of the listener playing critic: “too many clichés in the poem.”  I feel that the modern poet is far too caught up inside the practice of cliché avoidance—after all, many of these statements have survived the years due to their truth, which clearly after reading my poem cannot be denied. In my final act of defiance for the poet critic/expert and pleasing  my nature’s rebel spirit, I have protested the anti-cliché with fruitful and abundant use, culminating into an opus example of both their beauty and their ultimate lack of feeling.

The main ideas contained inside of my poem:  every line is a cliché.  Life is explored with an overindulgent child’s  microscope, revealing common evils that we happily continue to ignore and speak aloud.  Drug use is discussed, as this has been something of a puzzle for me over the years; for of course I hope the reader finds the use as disturbing as my ugly words.  The granddaddy cliché of them all, love (of course silly) is brought up near the end, along with a very simple strategy for choosing a mate: one who improves with age, on any level, (cliché alert) inside and out. Death is listed as the final and most unavoidable of them all.  No one can deny this claim, nor the claim I make about two very nice things placing last in far too numerous our population’s triage upper rankings: organics (anything natural being destroyed by false) and not only Mr. Lennon(who has become a cliché by character proportions) but his failed idea of world peace.  I have also ended the poem with the word peace, which is to say, I have ended my poem on the worse offense possible to the cliché watcher—which I couldn’t stop myself from enjoying.

The movie/sitcom format was employed to convey the cliché contained inside of them, telling our robotic personalities what to think and how to express it.  Again, every single line is an example of the cliché; even letters (e), (i-);  all revealing something about us and our thinking.  Please enjoy.

Advertisements

One comment

  1. You almost forget you are reading cliches… I believe that makes your poem more effective- it becomes real, a real conversation, laugh track and all…which relates back to the way many people think of their lives! The nature of both media and socialization as well as their relationship to each other is at work here- in a simple handshake between the writer and reader. A lot goes down. So much so that I think this poem can bring a realization to a lot of people (one they need), and therefore it should be read worldwide.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: