FANFARRON by Dennis Doph (Wagenblatz)

Parallel Universe. 31

Out of the ether of the bold Brazilian jungle
Comes the quirky term "Fanfarron"
Term used deliberately to raise a bone
In a sexual connotation one must not bungle

Term meant to be used with much asperity
To describe one who is not what he might be
Once one has seen the surface of what he might see
...but beneath that? Nothing of any clarity

Such as the brilliant superstar Madonna
Who tries to pass herself off as the Queen of Sex
She'd better be prepared to cash in her checks
Before they're cancelled. And, for her Honna
None of us could possibly disagree
She should stop making punk flicks like W/D.
Her vaginal exertions might raise a blista
She is a High megaton Fanfarronista.

Then there is the once-superboy Adam Sandler
This whey faced fool sure needs another handler
Though he thinks his boyish ways are still cute
Audiences have given this piece of dreck the boot
Before the memory of his former cuteness is gone
He can be nailed as another Fanfarron.

Then there is Doris Day; once the Pinkest of Pinks
Thirty years is a long time between drinks
Before she put her butch DA in a bun
She should have played lustful Mrs Robinson
Or stood beside those other elderly Dollies
To play the stay-at-home gal in Sondheim's Follies.
Upping the ante at 87 cannot raise that blista
She's been exposed as one more Fanfarronista.

Even more succinctly, Mitt Romney's brain is swimmin
As he endorses his party's War on Women
These bastards really should lay off this tack
What they're proposing cannot be taken back
So before he prepares to don the Presidential Robe
Let's see what his bony butt can do with a vaginal probe.
On Gingrich! On Santorum! On Karl Rove! On Donner!
They have all been outed as Fanfarroner.

ADRIENNE RICH by Dennis Doph (Wagenblatz)

Parallel Universe . 30

In all the world of poetry
From Elizabeth Bishop to Gertrude Stein
I've been able to find some little something
Which is absolutely mine
In the world of the exalted Adrienne Rich
There is no Stimulus to stim
For all of fucking Adrienne Rich
Is so goddamned fucking grim
I'd rather gag on the grossest Ferlinghetti
Than be stuffed with one more word of this Brown Betty
But I have found one thankful fact to muse upon, instead:
She is dead.
So, among life's great treasures,
Thank God for small pleasures!

NOTHING IS FOREVER by Wagenblatz

Parallel Universe. 29

"Nothing is forever", said Bogie to Claire Trevor,
Pushing Robinson into the tub,
Out there on the floor lay Old Man Barrymore
Lying in for a lanolin rub.

"Forever is nothing," said Lionel to his sister,
As she paired off and squared off against Cary,
"For if the truth be told you are far too old
And Cary is way far too merry."

"Nothing is handy," said Cary to Randy,
As Skip Homeier crawled in between,
"and wherever we go there's always Amigo
Unzipping and gripping the scene."

So Trevor wore fuschias and Bogie got abushias
And Robinson ate his cigar,
Behind Barrymore's shiner was tiny Luise Rainer
Pretending she once was a star.

"No one is able," said wee Betty Grable,
As she reeled off some improbable names,
At the top of her flower was twee Tyrone Power
And up her bottom was Harry James.

"I'm able to dig it," said Billie at the spigot,
Preparing to tie off her arm,
But as she shot up that damned Carm MacRae pup
Proceeded to dish out the charm.

"Dig it and bury it," said Van from his chariot,
Using Hodiak's pubics for floss,
While still on his belly he was trod on by Gene Kelly
Who treated all of Metro as dross.

"Dross is so gross," cried Lansbury of Angela,
Smearing on Factor #5,
Tripping on the stair she tripped over Frank Langella
Blowing Burl when his "Ives" was only "Ive".

"I've done this before," said Big Burl to Charles Bickford,
Stepping over the Franchot of Tones,
"and once through this door we will act like before
And both shtupp Miss Jennifer Jones."

"My Jones is erected," said Gable as he connected
With loverly Marilyn at Reno.
Marilyn got even more grand as she jumped on Montand
And blew out Thelma Ritter at Keno.

Ah, big stars and little, pretentious and brittle
Rolling over each other like tanks
Where Mayer was once merry there soon was Dore Schary
Who proceeded to trim all their ranks.

"This is all kind of looney," said dear Mickey Rooney
Thinking himself an imperishable star,
Now he's a vague ninety-three, as forgotten as can be
Just as off-track as dear dead Jack Paar.

Nothing is forever in this crazy endeavor
Nothing is what it is cracked up to be
Nothing could be finer than tiny Luise Rainer
As she hoves up one One Hundred and Three
Claire Trevor was more clever but she didn't last forever
Like Luise at One Hundred and Three.

SO GODDAMNED HUNGRY by Wagenblatz

Parallel Universe . 28

Slog around here with my jock in my hand
Wondering if I have disposed myself
To a life of unwanted celibacy
Nobody's hungrier than a fool like me
Gonna rip myself right off of the shelf
Terribly foolish, terribly grand

Whacked out, stressed in this Stone Dyke town
So goddamned hungry for a really hairy man
So goddamned hungry for a big thick cock
To plunge into me like a sexual rock
Wanna rub my maleness off on his tan
Milk an Assgasm off on his frown.

Tired , so tired of these Santorum nuts
Leached-out kids looking like they've been strained
Through a piece of cheesecloth like buttermilk
Like to kick each and every whelk
Whacked-out Daddy So pouty and pained
Would like to kick all of their goddamned butts.

And this piece of shit, pretending to be Yer Daddy
Expanding his La Jolla house to 8000 squares
Braggin' 'bout his buds who OWN Nascar racers
Like to use a pair of Art Gum Erasers
To rub out both of these Teaparty Squares
So proud and haughty; so Perc-Westmore ruddy

Walk the streets of sexless Santa B
Erection pushing me along State Street
Wearing out the crotch in my Territory Ahead
Walking shorts; I'd rather be dead
Than relegate myself to the lack of body heat
Needed by a great big bear like me.

So goddamned hungry! Play with me, Buck
And give yourself over to a friction fuck.

VERY VERY BIG MOUSTACHE by Wagenblatz

Parallel Universe . 27

Wednesday morn we took our Prius
Down to Downtown Montecito
Von's Store there was having a sale on
Brisket of beef. Oh my!

Store spread over several pricey acres
Montecito acres. Von's far as the eye
Could see What one saw Right off the bat
Whoever had the responsibility
For hiring men They had to be
Very, very gay

Everyone from boxboys straining muscle
Under tight VON'S hoodies To section managers
Sixtysomething men in pristine white shirts
And tasteful ties, beefy shoulders flexing
Provocatively
Under pristine white

The Manager of Managers
Slight, lean, handsome, late fifties
Hairy stud top with a very very big moustache
Big hairy hands with long fingers
an amazing bulge just below the belt buckle

Knew where the Cold Room was; somehow
Was obliged to ask:
"Where is the Cold Room?"

He intoned a husky radio baritone
"Just to the left of the Cheese Bar;
Watch your step going in; it's dark."

Just what I wanted to know.

Toyed around the Cheese Bar
for a couple of minutes Making
Sixtysomething Dad with the great shoulders
Go into an agony of shoulder-flexing

Took myself into the dim recesses
Of the Cold Room, there
At the end of the aisle
With the non-alcoholic beer
The Manager of Managers stood
Stroking
His very very big moustache with one hand
An amazing rock hard penis with the other

My knees hit the floor
Faster than Monica Lewinsky
With her Kneeling Pillow in the Lincoln Room.

MEAT by Dennis Doph (Wagenblatz)

Parallel Universe. 26

My table is groaning with viands galore
The dinnerware came from the very best store
My grapes are all glittering; the pink ones are blushing
Like the blood to my cheeks which is ever more rushing
For my gluttonous dinner's going down to defeat
From the lack of the ingredient known as FRESH MEAT.

I've recently supped at the very best tables
Seen hairy calves rivalling those which were Grable's
Eaten ripples and triples of nipples at Frisco
Then Anthony took me to the Powerhouse Disco
Peeled me off a young Sicilian, erotic and sweet
And THERE was a chunk of the very best meat

But he knelt on his knees and presented his backside
Which surely was not his most out-of-whack side
Gave me his mouth which performed wondrous deeds
ALMOST all of the benison a Bully Beef needs
But this Bully Beef needs to be put into heat
By eight inches or more of miraculous meat.

Hied me down to Orange County that Republican Fief
Seeking a big chunk of social relief
From the man known as Gary with the body from hell
And a perilous penis which rings every bell
To make matters better, he brought 'long his Bud
Flashing a Meat Pie the size of a spud
Then they had at me and they had at each other
Each Bully Beef broaching the butt of his brother
Finally we were exhausted, each holding his Worm
Covered with hickies, bubbling sperm

Now I'm headed to Rome where men so hirsute
Always tempt me to push in my snoot
Into their Bearlike crevices, with my Piglike ways
To be a Rim Pig for the rest of my days
The one thing that rescues me from these ideas insular
Is the sight of a glistening Man peninsula.

Oh, Meat, Meat, you ephemeral thing
Just the ticket to make all my chimes ring
As you push your Own Self into my receptive mouth
And that other orifice located just slightly south
Nothing has me lactating than accum-commodating
Another big chunk of glorious Meat!

the ROOF OF THE CAR by Dennis Doph

Parallel Lives. 25

Oh, Mitt strapped the dog to the roof of the car.
Yes, he strapped poor Seamus to the roof of the car.
Montreal bound, Mitt had set a quota of pit stops,
Giving not one iota
While five brawling boys rode inside of the car.

Left Grosse Pointe about a quarter to one
Mitt had not planned to stop before lovely Akron
In the middle of Ohio Seamus howled like a husky
Shitted and pissed all over Sandusky
While the poor bitch was strapped to the roof of the car.

Boys saw diarrhea rolling down the side
Seamus on the roof howled and pissed and cried
Mitt cried, "Jeepers!" and "Nentely-Crima!"
Hosed the poor beast down at Lima
Leaving the poor bitch strapped to the roof of the car.

Mitt now tells us he would be the best man for the Job
Giving us corn ... also giving us the cob
Before this anecdote is effectively closed,
Tell me: who do you think will wind up getting hosed?
While we all are strapped to the roof of the car.