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------------------------------------ There was a large painting of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. It hung in the Mayors office. Late one evening after everyone went home. I took it down to the lab. I zoomed in on Evel’s left eye a 100x and enhanced it. It was an address. I went to the address. It was a modest, 1970’s style, split level ranch home in the suburbs.
----------------------------------- Inside I found a dead parrot lying on a waterbed. I revived the parrot with some saltines and adrenaline. We became good friends. The parrots name was Randy. One night a few years later while Randy and me played Gin Rummy, he sang me a song about a fire. The title of this blog was never mentioned but I sensed it, and Randy confirmed it by giving me ‘THE LOOK’.
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I rake the tits and ass into neat piles
I wallpaper the roaring void with kitten pictures
and still God refuses to arm wrestle me.
“Who’s halo do you have to blow to get a rootbeer float round here?”
I holler. There is no reply. Only the sound of a leaky faucet
and the sighs of a million bored prophets,
all living in the eternal now.
thedailydoodles said: Love it. —DMC
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