the return of the paisley prince 10/19/09

I.  resurrection with nods and misgivings

the season is here, at last
hurrah, hurrah        and the ipa
that sits on the newly cleaned
desk         glimmers     with hope
and possibility, sublimely
surrendering to the moment
muting the melancholy
that threatens to creep into
our lives     amid doubts         amid paranoid perceptions
as the pervasive     fear of tomorrow
threatens to destroy the
promise of a new day.

cliche-         i hear you lurking
in the corners, i see your
ill-defined forms as you seek
to establish yourself but
i     shout out your punchlines
and i hit on your date, whispering
in her ear the things that i
would like to do to her
and we know that it is
of course, all metaphorical
irony,             illusions and allusion
and you haven’t ever had
a heckler quite like me.

more drinks for me and my friends
and perhaps we will channel the
lizard king tonight.

ah, jim, i know
your kind,     sad and desperate
and on fire, flaming brightly, dying
young, singing to the ladies in
reptilian splendor    orator extraordinaire
the drunken cavorting    the mystic rhythms,
the drums of the whole earth
and the beat of the universe
spurring you on in ecstatic brilliance
like kerouac’s mad ones-
exploding across the sky
ahhh beautiful…

you child in the wind.

we were like you once
and yet we still do not sleep.