Desperate for votes, the huddled elder gods
cast knucklbones as they had long ago
calling upon the Thunder Banger to
return from his perpetual pussy hunt
take up the standard of past glories
tromp the opposition into dust
burst like a quasar in the firmament
remember those who never forgot
Young Mary danced in needle park
had turned a thousand tricks or two
and still resembled daddy's little girl enough
to heat the groins of men and boys
She wondered who the old dude was
thatrode the 4th street bus at night
and kept his thoughts in a plain brown bag
Buzzed and fried, she staggered off
at Ninth and Plum. Scorpio stitched
the horizon, fists of cloud knuckled the moon
He had her in the backseat of a derelict Camaro
not as golden rain or smoke or randy swan
He came as a sorry drunk on disability
with fifty bucks in his wallet, spare change
and a checkered past
....
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