Chicano Poet

Monday, June 06, 2005

Surf’s Up, Henry!

Henry’s suffering from carpal tunnel,
the traffic on the way to work
and the keyboard calisthenics---

he calls it his surfboard.
Annette was not the hottest babe
on the beach full of hot babes.

The surfing pipeline did not carry oil
back when gasoline was cheap,
America knee-deep in the jungle.

Today, Paris Hilton washes the car
in a black bathing suit,
her legs wide open on national television,

she’s advertising burgers,
takes a big bite, licks her finger
while Henry licks his chops.

Henry’s lobster-claw pinches down.
The bow-legged girl straddles the beach
holding hands with Moondoggie,

and we’re back in the Sixties again.
Henry’s fingers and hands were young back then,
new poetry just under the fingernails.


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