bigger than a bread box,
formerly sponsored by Gaddafi.
get up, get up, you lazy sl--iver of early morning moonlight, you.
Look for me.
(I had a key.)
In plain sight, where everyone's eyes go sleepy.
I'm as unstable as rising dough,
follow your lips;
theirs is liturgy in language any fool can understand.
We are the two, the last two
that the local Lothario hasn't fucked.
You, because you're out of his league--
me, because I am made from African wood that splinters in the dark
and that no sandpaper can smooth.
The Bantu left their mark on me, as a talisman and ornamental warning.
Have you found me yet?
It's your kitchen, get it together, Princess.
In this bottle over here, the anti-msg
for rendering the over-seasoned tasteless.
Let's start over, just you and me.
Moon Dog and Moon-ette, just two girls who went wrong so many times
we became a brand, with an anthem,
rolling figure 8's together in a math our bodies translate into mbira music.
for Literary Excursions With Kerry at Real Toads.