A Couple Poems (September 2015)A Poem for Last Weekend
by Jen "Erect Joy" Monknun
Having entered a temple of joy and grace for the time being I see my friends here, up at Horseheadquarters. I found out last weekend that there is really a place called Horsehead in Western New York State, and if you want you can stay for a night at the Horsehead Motel 6. It's just south of one of the so-called "finger lakes". I couldn't find any fingers but I didn't try looking for very long.
Instead of booking a room at the Motel 6 and watching Entertainment Tonight and Antiques Roadshow, we decided to hit the Back Roads and find a spot to pitch the ol' Hexagonal Tent. After some struggles the tent was pitched,
the fire was started and some specters seemed about. First the melting butter was screaming murder endlessly for a while in the queerest way, not the first time I have heard this, big painful terrible endless screaming coming from the ether, and secondly the coyote family laid a little intimidation on...
Big tall patches of goldenrod were standing around like knights or guardian angels or guardian gargoyles. They were still and looked around though not really at or in me in a normal interactive way. I am sure glad they were around keeping things active and awake and looming in such a tall way, as to keep the look out for..........
Anyway....
Then I got to thinking about how this is like the great Temple of Creation.
Here at the temple we have a few rules. The rules are all easy to learn, but difficult to practice. Therefore the temple is a place with a small revolving cast of Karmic Acrobats.
Here we've got Sally Joe "Misdemeanor" Royce. She has been around the block and is no stranger to cats in the hollow. Nor are the cats in the hollow strangers to her- She gets around the block. You might even say it is pussy for pussy down there up the block. You may admit that it's a terrible thing to think about that life...
Melissa Caliblaster. She's on the road... feeling those miles fly by like a limitless bubble bath. Or, the slick grease of last night's boar.... Collected in a gourd for this special moment, a moment where bliss is a greased phallus. She's blasting off to California or somewhere out yonder where "the smoke gets in your eyes."
Here's another... Esther Harding. She was sensitive to electromagnetic junk and it was too easy for her to get to skipping through the holy books. So she did. One day she was skipping too hard through the pages and fell on her face on the sidewalk, now she's walking with a limp.
Poor girl needs to get a gym membership! And try Yoga.
and the last character profile for now, Ronald Rumpy. That big balloon of an ass popping out and slapping us all in the face. You don't want to see it, but really you do, and you can't wait to see Ronald Rumpy stick his hand again suggestively into the back pocket of this jeans, and your desires.
Like the browsing through of time, these figures appear with a happy and light glow for a few minutes at the ol Temple. Then fading out they go Uh Oh who know's where.
Well lookie over there. It's a deck full of some friends of mine. They are the Avant-Garde artist friends of mine who always keep my mind and spirit in tip top shape with the help of their spells and mysteries woven about in the various spectrums of art. I see they are pulsating with colors including the near electric barely turquoise blue light, like old Ronald Rumpy, Melissa, and the rest of the gang were as they hung out in the temple on their quick pit stop in and out in on the trip through the Temple of Creation.
I thought, why, these peers of mine are really making a difference in this crazy world, and they deserve to be put in a hall of fame somewhere. So here I propose:
And Some of His Sons Horses Gala event
Featuring
An open invitation to camping in the Finger Lakes at a haunted camp site,
And afterwords, a private hotel party where noted Contributors to this great magazine will enjoy bubble baths, cocktails infused with whiskey infused with mysterious herbs infused by the great, loyal and keen Zack Kouns.
"A Bubble Bath Primer" Bathroom play by and starring the handsome man who lives mere American miles from the Canadian side of Niagara, Rory Hinchey, will dazzle us with stock tips, but no insider information because he is honest.
Pony Bones Proctor has some ideas in mind about wanting to learn how to play Shuffleboard so we all decided it would be a good idea to rent a shuffleboard and the necessary equipment and hire Ed Wilcox, at $40/hour, to be our shuffleboard coach.
Robby Kee has decided that he is on a countdown to his return to only going nude or wearing underwear when swimming. He remembers a brief period of time when he was wearing another kind of garment when he was swimming, but prefers not to think about it too long, because he starts to feel the wet, cool mesh fabric biting his legs who want nothing more to be free to be who they are, the legs of one of the most polite and informed individuals that I have ever known. So, to the Gala we will have a so long to trunks party wherein Robby Kee donates his classy but rejected swim trunks (WASHED AND CLEAN) to a pool wherein lots are drawn and then the underwear dispersed amongst the patrons of this event.
After that, some other of our contributors (Names withheld) will bring the party to the next level with some choice rum drinks and some natural soda bottled at the nearby Soda Springtown. We might also enjoy room service late night or do karokee.
Hall of Fame Sand Mandala!! We will try our best to create a mandala from sands of different colors on woven mats we bring and lay on the floor after we move the second full sized bed ontop of the other full sized bed, to make room. On the last day of our retreat,
We will all play shuffleboard over our portraits and fall on the ground and laugh and cry.
A sandy Sayonara as we close the holy book of those moments of merriment, taking with us all a hard boiled egg, infused with innocence, love, and passion, by Zack Kouns.
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