Flying Saucer Safari
The Suburban Lawns are playing
at the Nugget-A-Go-Go
Su Tissue a psychotic bird singing
Flying Saucer Safari:
Station wagon full of Fritos
Coke and Twinkies, stale Doritos
Head for the desert, Interstate 10
Pull off anywhere, and then
Concentrate, don't make a sound
We'll psychokinetically pull one down
Flying Saucer Safari
Flying Saucer
Flying Saucer Safari
Her eyes wide darting warbling comatose helium-induced screams
We are filled with Quaaludes and alcohol
As Rick shanks the dance floor with his rage
Growling at the World
Elbows jabbing, legs kicking to the staccato beat
His body inundates the dance floor
A flood overwhelming all in its path
A surge that cannot be contained by false pharmaceutical dams
It is felt by the Lakewood Punks
Sharks sensing blood, predators swimming in waters
where they are not welcome
Our Ocean, Our club
Fucking Lakewood Punks
Bodies Move in Slow Motion Blur
My lips and cheeks numb from the yellow pills
And Rick Dances a Dance more murder than celebration
Cancer they said, his Brother's cells rebelling against themselves
He fights the Monster the only way he knows
Lashing out in movement, wounding air
The floor explodes in Spontaneous Inevitability
Arms waving like psychotic wheat
As a body flies into the drumkit
Set in Motion by Rick,
a black hole sucking in the violence of worlds
Another Lakewood Punk rolls over a table
Leaving spilled beer and anger in his wake
It’s an All-American movie barroom brawl
Violence with Rick as event horizon
Fighting three to one
One Lakewood Punk pounds
his back as he smashes another to the floor
Beer Mugs fly in slow motion
Missiles exchanged leaving thick dark liquid contrails
We try to hack through the Jungle of Anger and Panic
To get to the madness vortex
Rick’s dust devil fists wind milling
Bodies thrown in the tempest’s path
As I am spun around by unseen hands
and contact is made by an invisible fist
My glasses flying, shock stars bursting
Then suddenly it’s calm
The storm cloud of bodies parting
Revealing Rick
Half-naked dangling commando,
his pants ripped and disappeared
somewhere in the screaming night
Wounded punk warriors limp
Across shallow blots of alcohol
Kicking up ground French fries and nachos
The atmosphere thick with fear, confusion and elation
Theatre Art Kids crying and traumatized
at dress-up become shockingly real
When a Lakewood Punk Runs up
Yelling Face to Face with Rick
Why did You Start the Fight?
It’s spitting a spark into dry tinder
Rick Pausing, thinking, a thousand thoughts racing
Synapses Refusing to Connect with speech
Unwilling to explain
He punches Lakewood and the room explodes again
Half-Naked Warrior keeping usurpers at the gate
The crowd coagulates into a single beast
Faces and body parts blurred
Its maw chewing rage and testosterone
Electrified, feeding and enlarging
And then All Quiet Once Again on the Long Beach Front
Christie covers Rick with a borrowed shirt
A 99-cent thrift store kilt with sleeves
As the audience thins and moves on
Bored, leaving to find other stories written in insanity and ugliness
The lingering ghosts of violence swept up and sanitized
until the next show
I search for my glasses
And find them cowering in a dark corner
The damaged frames twisted and wrecked
I put them on, one lens dangling
And we all leave, licking wounds both real and psychic
I drive home in the early morning pitch
Bitter Moon Leering
El Camino roaring in breakneck 405 emptiness
Laughing even though it hurts
I Believe
When I was a kid
I believed in flying saucers
As I peered out my night window
From the top bunk bed
I saw one fly into my dusty, rectangular universe
It hovered and blinked kaleidoscopically
A vision of better worlds not filled
with muffled arguments from behind closed doors
And I knew
It was coming for me
To take me back to my real planet
Because I knew I didn’t belong here
It was the only explanation for the anger and pain
The only way to comprehend the loneliness of my alien skin
I believed in flying saucers
Even though we lived under a flight path
and I had undiagnosed astigmatism
Because I wanted to believe that there are miracles
Instead of a dark, endless universe
filled with people like me
Waiting to be taken Home