Saturday, June 22, 2019
In the Interests of Beauty
His twin daughters called him
The Hairy Ape, and,
of course, danced around
him, in a scratching,
hunching way.
At any rate, his wife
insisted he periodically
have the sheaves removed
from his back.
Can thee say ouch!?
Ripped off excruciatingly!
No adverb strong enough...
the language inadequate.
Another comic opera war
erupts and he, though old,
is drafted as the leaders
go ape!
The young troopers can't stop
laughing at him.
Well, regardless of absurd country,
everyone reaches a final scenario.
And he is so so grievously wounded!
The enemy, in the person of a
jumpy teen, prepares his just-
lingering body.
Gluing a sort of thick poultice
to his back.
A sort of wryness nesting in the
corners of his mouth.
"Oh please! Not that!"--from
our expiring hero naturally.
"With such pleasure you can't
even imagine, Tarzan! I hate
all you old fuckers!"
RIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!
