'Mighty Mite', 'money Mike', And 'mad Mik' Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Sundaze!
Up at dawn
wash the face
take a big dump!
Line the phuuck up!
Then shiver, and giggle
or take a low blow in the liver
Whatever! Orders barked, hear
the one witch talk; like the demon
hordes screeching out for forever!
Then this next dawn raises, that never
to end question. 'What is it all about; Mikey'?
Thought and dream? Plans, schedules, themes?
Thieves from Thebes? 'Needful things? The 'King'
of all of the 'Gypsy Kings'? Breakfast nosh, at
what cost? Brains of pig, redeye gravy on grits
scrambled eggs, white bread and marmalade!
Or, cockroach eggs-n-raisin bran! Fission food
swab the tops-n-decks, have a tug on 'lil' mikey'!
Exactly,09: 00; may the 'change' be in one! Time
now too, 'flat iron' the sundaze best! Crew cut
spat on, bowtie is worn, gather now in the T.V.
room for an hour of relief from all that is boring
mundane, and indifferent to this 'early times'
malaise! Sixty years blown past. Limited times
spewed out so fast. Never mind the body, as all
that is many storied! Sordid, morbid, noted; before
the beginning of the human species' mind! As if you
could say this and not laugh! A human being has a mind!
Please, do so prove this to me! I; however, digress! Once
again! Whatever! The ladder razed, those latter dazed idiots
played; where is the bottom of hades? Who cares! That
is really 'the delusion', that confusing, collusion, controlling
this 'cuntry's' vision! You read me correctly, it is not like I
have not mentioned this reality before! Me mighty, all
else 'Snidely Whiplashed'; snubbing the truth in this!
Where the phuuck is my 'cat-o-nine tails'? Mites are
itty-bitty-biters; blood sucking creatures; or a 'mouse
that flew' on 'tele-babies'! Some early daze and
confusion, until 'they' up and headshot my son J.F.K.!
'Evil-doers' and a bottle of Dewar's; doing what 'they may'
till this present day! 'Andye' not one of you lazy and insipidly
stupid miscreants understand this! What a load of piss! Or
all the americant beer you can puke! This is now Monday
laundry day, composition daze; Dad, I really need a tab
of that 'Purple Haze' you saved me from the 70's; to
get back to my future gopher hammering ways!
Bopping gophers, smiling go-for'; playing golf with
Socrates! Hey! Why ya got two different coloured
sox on? And just how did you manage to dig your self
out from; that dumbed down 'box of hair' you were
birthed from? Dumb ones, dumped on, 'trumped' upon
and there is so little time! Speaking of which, witch wishes
me unwell? I will see you in 'that hell' that I; have personally
reserved for you and all of your relations! Money, morals
oxy and deplorable doors opening as we juggle; what it
is we juggle, or jiggle, or spooge into! Mourning
fawning, falling; faux-fi-foaming, it is that time
of the month again? Got your 'rags' on? Both
at the 'Y'; and around your eyes! And here is the
nexus to the lasted dubie; dubia, dumb secondary
primate doubles of the all of you! No worries!
Mike and money make, for an 'aging Oakland Raider'
still riding 'old school'! The casual conversations about
'the Nam', the 'throw-a-ways', and pushing incense
to the tourists down Hollywood ways! Those glory daze!
The 'Purple Suited Men' departed! Money Mike simply
drank way too much; and he got tired of all the shite!
From mighty, through money; to that 'Mad Mik'!
Who the phuuck is not Irish? Vaticanese? Truly?
And not much of a card seer! Coffee cornered at
the 'Palisades corner' of Hawthorne and the sea!
on a sun dialed sundaze morning brewery! He sat
dawn next too me; and got tormented! Funny how
the players are so easily swayed for 'their suade'!
He saw my second fatty! Got somewhat batty
and quietly and quickly fled away from me!
Be ever careful who you work for. The profit
mongers care not for whom they pay! Modern
men, more break than bend; brittle butter brick led
by persuasion's! And these 'touts' of the neo-conned
truly do not last long; without an 'elder aunties' stranglehold!
Dubie, Dubie, Boo! Burgoo, Burbank, Bat scat and no thanks
any one else care to dance? Come on' are happenstance.
Mighty Mite, Money Mike, and Mikey Mik, where are you?