His dick lights up like a Tiffany lamp.
We spend the evening picking broken glass
from his urethra. It is so rock and -
well, I was going to say 'roll', but my
tongue is bleeding, so it sounds more like 'wool'.
His version of Berlin cabaret: camp
(as in concentration) with a pale arse
bathed in blue light, backed by an oompah band,
is retro to the nth. None can deny
he plays Sally Bowles with both balls and bull.
He shrieks, 'Iggy Pop ate my pussy!" while
roadies confiscate drugs from his groupies.
Still, his eyes are small black dots and his smile
a scribbled line on a face like Snoopy's.
Comments
FTSE100 | October 8, 2008 - 20:45
Is Iggy Pop what the Iggy Weasel goes?
Stefano | October 8, 2008 - 21:08
Of course it isn't. The Iggy weasel rips your Iggy flesh.
chuck | October 8, 2008 - 23:04
I guess that one didn't make it onto "Heroes".
WilkyBarKid | October 9, 2008 - 08:45
Think of it as an outtake or deleted scene from the director's cut of 'The Assassin Sonnets'.
Interesting; the effect of a provocative title.
Ewan | October 9, 2008 - 09:10
More reads for one.
WilkyBarKid | October 9, 2008 - 10:31
It's the 'Massive Tits' syndrome.
This piece has got almost as many hits in one day as my last cherry-pick gathered in almost a week.
Plus more comments, though none of them actually about this (frankly dubious) poem itself.
jennifer | October 9, 2008 - 10:51
I think this is hilarious, esp the first stanza - I can see the image!
I named my dog after him.
Ewan | October 9, 2008 - 18:22
Who? Wilky?
WilkyBarKid | October 10, 2008 - 08:26
Now I wanna be your dog -
Well, c'mon!