Christian W. Thiede
Jack Kerouac Mexico City Blues
Swinging Neil Young’s
"Harvest" in Penny Lane
A café latte house
Of Egyptian proportions
Wrap a snake around my rope neck
And breathe deep and slow
Fill these lungs to the brim
And enjoy the squeeze box tension
A lady with catnip eyes
Plays with her long
Dancing hair
In pirouetting finger swirls
And reservoir umbrellas are turned
Upside down
And paradise alley is racing through
My chai-laced conga pulse veins
And the violin is screaming in the rain
And the rhythm’s popping cherries
Virgin style
And I’m never going back
Home
Again
Ever
Just too much pain
Cause I’ve already paid my dues
I got the Jack Kerouac
Mexico City blues
Cradled
Delicate head cradled in my hands
As we make love
All the lines of life’s hardships
Smooth out and disappear
From your angel face
All the disappointments
All the deceptions
All the sadness
All the hurts
All the battering of time
Your head held lightly
As I stroke the soft skin
Of your forehead
Your eyelid
Your cheek
Your lips
You nibble my candy cane fingertips
You kiss my Christmas tree arms
You bite my New Years neck
You tell me I’m so good to you
Your head cradled in my hands
Eggshell thin
Soft and innocent
Like a child’s
Your orgasm
A bubbling brook
Overflowing pleasure giggle
We love to forget
All but our bodies
Pressed against each other
We must forget
All the past
To be here
Present with each other
There is no future
But now
Here in tender arms
Cradled
Savior
I cannot save you
from your father’s
blindness.
I cannot save you
from you mother’s
superficialness.
And I am not sure
who
put those spikes
in your hands and feet
nor the crown of thorns
upon your head.
Maybe it was
your mother.
Maybe it was
your father.
Maybe it was
yourself.
I look at
you
hanging there
tell you to
take
the spikes
out
and save yourself.
You smile sweetly
and tell me
it will hurt
too much
that as long as you
don’t move
it is tolerable and
only throbs
that you get
used to it
that I must be in terrible
pain myself
not having the
comfort
of the spikes
to hold me up.
It’s the only way
the right way
that I should climb up and
join you
on the cross.
No thank you.
No thank you!
I walked away
slowly
feeling the freedom of movement
your pleading
getting fainter
and fainter.
No, I cannot
be your
savior
nor can you
be
mine.
