Buddah Moskowitz Invades Fireblossom's Dreams

So I dreamed that Buddah Moskowitz mailed me all this stuff.
So much!
It wouldn't nearly fit in the mailbox.

There was poems.
And crazy bullshit, little gadgets I couldn't even understand what they were for,
And his old watch. What am I supposed to do with that?
The face is as big as my whole hand!
I wonder if it works underwater?
I wonder if you can see what time it is inside a cave at midnight?
I wonder how he got my address?!

And oh yeah, there was these five big boxes full of old newspapers, and
And...
(Should I even be telling you this?)
And like a zillion dollars in cash.
Man, can this girl use it.
Thanks, Mosk. I like your blog too!

So, I did what any sensible, well brought-up Catholic gal would do...
I bought a ginormous honking handgun,
A black 1960 Chrysler with an engine a girl can feel right through the bench seat,
And went on the run.
Eat my dust, assholes!

Guys with soul patches tried to swipe my stash,
But their bullets may as well have been made of pudding.
I was fierce! Rawr!!!
Gitcher motor runnin'...
This beat going to work any day.

I took it out west.
Lookit, Arizona is still there! I'll stop and see Dani.
We can eat at some dopey chain restaurant and order anything
Cos I've got a zillion dolla.
More quesadillas for you ladies?
Why, yes, we don't mind if we do.

Thank you, Buddah Moskowitz, for the zillion dollars,
And the creepy guy-watch,
And the poems, which were eggs-ellent.
I will think of you every time I floor the Chrysler.
I will pay your tab at Danny's Coffee Shop.
I will put the top down
And let the moon work on my head a little more,
Whether that's wise
Or necessary
Or not.
_____

E Z Off

Sylvia Plath's spirit spoke to me
as if she were the
god damn Oracle Of The Oven.

Sylvia say,
"Oh, girl,
give it up.
You think this world gonna change?
You think the rain gonna stop half way down the sky
to save your fuckin' 'do?"

She say,
"Do what I do.
Pretend it's a workout show.
Crawl in like this,
and breathe in deep and slow."

So I say,
"Who is Sylvia,
what is she,
that all our swains commend her?
What kind of half-assed soul was she
that a kitchen appliance should end her?"

I say,
my Love, she leave me last on her list.
Not feelin' loved,
it sucks dead donkey lips,
but
still...

Damned if I'm gonna snuff it here
with chicken grease in my hair.
Damned if Pete the repairman say,
"It don't work because
there's a damn dead girl in there."

Anyways,
something good might happen any time.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Oh look, that made me laugh.
_______