The January 21 Knock Yer Socks Off Jam

[Doreen Peri]

You never hear a fucking word I've said!
Forget you, you over-used bitch
Sit. Lay Down. Beg.

doggonit

[tori]

snicker lol

[Doreen Peri]

Pitter pat, tizz's got her plastic umbrella and supersonic hat!

imagine that!

[tizz]

i look fine in my hat
i am sly in my hat
you would die for my hat
i am i in my hat

[tori]

HA! I said HA!
I might want your hat
but you're jealous of my bra!

[tizz]

my boobs my boobs were once so small
no bra no swell no nothing at all. now they're here
and what do i do? i ask the girl with the double g hoodoo

[tori]

As I roll on the floor and laugh my freaking tiny ass off
I teeter and totter from the weight of the soft sound of g
hoodoo? me wish doctor would do
and take these heavy things away from me!

[Doreen Peri]

how could any gal be jealous
of a bra that's oh so zealous
teaming with its overpouring
of the joy which its enjoying?

[stilltrucking]

You speak of love but I saw those eyes
paying attention to what's up with Mother Time
Frosting the hair, romancing the moans
of the Much Overdue Line.

Holy Shit

is right
Mother Mary I don't believe I have lusted after her

but I do have

Resonance Lite Stupid Bob
stochastic - (statistics) being or having a random variable

saccadic - a small rapid jerky movement of the eye especially as it jumps from fixation on one point to another (as in reading)

you got my eyes right, from breast to crotch, but the face first, the hair, but not always standing in line at the handy andy, staring at her belly, mother time so harsh on her daughters but they tell me hippies look good in the box, and if I did not catch a woman's eyes staring at me sometimes, I would act more my age, but my vanity prevails into my senility, and I wish I could be the man spalding gray was, on that nude beach when he was approached by a nude fan, he was her hero the writer who made her first want to write, and she said he was a better man than her, she was staring at his penis, but he never once looked at her chest. but twenty five years is a long time, and I just live with it and watch my eyes as much as I can,

did I speak of love I hope not, I am not looking for a princess, not no more, just trying to have me some fun, hot dog bun my sisters a nun and you might see me tonight with an illegal smile

[tori]

The Tale of the Zealous Breast

Pounding heart underneath
waiting to get out
commmmunicate with me, it pleads
begging to beggars who have
stiff, straight standing, reeds.

One pucker, one lick, one subtle kiss
One touch, one soft speckled cheek,
Only one word;
please.

[stilltrucking]

"Does anybody want to fuck me she said."

Oh yeah you know sometimes a woman is so beautiful, so inteligent so far above you in class and style, and she knew time, I mean she knew time, like those bohemian bums wandering an earth that was disapearing under their feet. So I had to try, playing the clown so easy for me. She is one of the dearest friends I have never met, but a coy friend to be sure.

[tori]

To speak of love and know it is centuries old
elastic around the waste, crossed arms, and sagging face.
I am the LOVE MAKER, never faker, even now,
after five thousand roaring fires, and,
ten thousand clinking glasses.

That Olive of Olay might betray beauty,
might batter the woman till she's cringing,
have even the most goddess-like amongst them
asking why their fingers did so much work,

But,

Not him. He is never asking
or dreaming about the face of everlastin'
Wrinkle her up with him
the closeness is calling

They hope not to speak of love
but love is all there ever was.

[Doreen Peri]

goodnight.
goodnight.

i leave breaths
not yet spent,
heaven my
mantra.

day breaks
with snow.

i am
enveloped
with pillows
softening
blows, kisses
on brows.

however should i
endeavor to resolve
wonder?

i will wear a halo
on satin sheets, perhaps.
rainbow rhythm taps funk to fade,
black shades to white, tight the
intensity of delight, tight the pull
on matter, tight the pulse,
convulsive, right the meter,
certain, the metronome.

i go home now.
goodnight.
i leave breaths
not yet spent,
heaven my
mantra.

[tori]

Lovely! oh and yeeeehaw!

[stilltrucking]

goodnight.
goodnight.

i leave breaths
not yet spent,
heaven my
mantra.

do doe's garden a heaven for me

I got three hours to sleep, good thing I know how to sleep fast,

thinking about an old geezer dispatcher who was the last person I would talk to before going to bed, I was thousands of miles from home and he would say "sleep tight"