Poems by Beedoo!

Shit-Brown Volkswagen

Y'know, kid, I dreamt of a
mattress, paralleled like
the Bug's backseat,

the plutonic brown
NineWest celebrity skin
the hieroglyphic veedub emblem

Shades and shades worse than Hershey
Much much more like
shit

Kid,
ya know,
men may attempt
to tell our story
with alarm and despondency,
brakes going out
on downhill slopes
when all we wanted was DQ treats
that matched the paint
or stalling with bad-movie style
on the tracks
oncoming train
and all.

But I knew and you knew
how the Milk-Dud was homicidal
--thousands
of people
died
in the wreckage.
Ok, that's a lie.

But you know and I know
how we nearly lost
'Little Lauren,'
'the kid,'
'the Geemur'
when the door opened up
to pitch you out
and a strangling seatbelt

wanted to keep you for itself
death by rescue at
the corner at Sears
lucky you didn't end up with firmer skin
on basalt granules
that made a cartwheel slide
(It wasn't the cinders,
it did that on purpose)

Like kissing strange women on the counterpane
Kiss the glass, kid,
like Dolce' and Gabbana
as I skim a corner
Watch out!
for men at work and
the stressing, straining rocks that
the Doom Beetle wants
to throw you into...

'Cause men ain't that gentle
like this shit-brown veedub--
women of my generation would
never consider your keyhole of
Absolute Dating
--but kid,
that Postpile hot summer
where we made a comedy of

the
street's
surface
cracks,
barefootin' our way down
brassy and buckled

That's good times
--shape your affairs accordingly, kid,
'cause that sweet brown
candy killer
got sold to a small-town boy
--a shock metamorphism, I know,

but now
I've got a Jetta.

B!'s Poetry---Main