Effective Usage

Walk around with no pants on 
like you wrote the book on it 
like you never got milk on your whiskers 
like your camera never runs out of power 

Pan down a little go on 
yeah the scene sure is set now 
correcting the instances of satin sublimity 

Cue the bullhorn shorn of its meaning 
yammering on in a language 
known only to the dead 
like they wrote the lyrics themselves 
on their outdated typewriters 
like they're good for anything 
more than tears and fading photos 
like their desires just ceased 
when they each left us behind 

Keep on going don't stop now 
the waffles are already on 
the proverbial dashboard 
the cards have been lain 
over the baby's face so to speak 
all the arms waving spastically 
irregular levers 
rendering no winnings 
but paying out nonetheless 
in fistfuls of filth 
and stinking dirty diapers 

Keep walking like a bass player 
behind a really hot trumpeter 
or a keyboard artist 
or running 
neck and neck 
with a sizzling drummer 
able to leap into and out of rhythm 

We all pull back then zoom in 
for a better view of the kill 
the killer groove 
shoeless and daunting 
taunting us to come correct 
in our serious jest 
in our vain attempts 
to stay abreast 

Behind the wheel or not 
behind the eightball on Eighth Street 
jitterbugging our sidewalks sideways 
beyond the satin sublimity 
of this or any other breathless twilight 
the lake does not care or matter 

Raise your horns 
toward the summit 
like you wore this trail 
into the side of the sunset 
with your own flat feet 
like you're never coming back 
down again 
like you'll never settle 
for anyone else