DIRTY OLD MEN
(Now, Truly)

Now, truly, you have the perfect twelve year old skin;
blueberry eyes, yeah, and strawberry blush.
It feels like a crime, but is it really a sin,
smiling at you, nursing a Cherry Crush?

I sell from the stall
I smell from the mall
like sandalwood glycerin
lavender Listermint

Stay caught up on your beauty sleep,
but stick with the goats, kid; we’re more fun than sheep.
There are some lessons in life the teachers can’t hand to you,
each day you wake up in hell, and take your cell at the zoo,
about the way to become, about the way to behave
here in the land of the sleaze, here in the tomb of the brave.

Now, truly, don’t know if you’re a boy or a girl;
that could undo you in this mixed-up world.
So press on your nails, or simply call your own shots;
sharpen your claws, yeah, but don’t change your spots

We splurge at the mall
and purge at the stall
with Mastur-Card Platinum
AmEx-Lax Valium

Don’t believe a Bloc when it talks,
Or you could ship back in a flag-draped box;
So much of life is ahead, so squeeze a kiss from the sky,
because a reason to fight is not a reason to die;
sometimes it’s safer and saner to be out on the fringe —
remember dear Karen Carpenter, she died for our binge.

Now, truly, your smile has been unhampered by fate;
mouthfuls of hope for the dopes who await
to wager your fortune on this blue spinning-plate.
Toughen your love against their hard-sell hate!

They file through the mall
I smile like a doll:
an epicene Mall Marine,
greasy-palm go-between;
Dress For Less Krispy Kreme,
Ultra Brite Dairy Queen

Always carry a showroom pout
when shopping at malls, and a pall of doubt.
You’ll find, wherever you go, a rent-a-cop on the beat
so keep your nose off their shit, and take no five-fingered heat.
‘Cuz if you’re stronger than dirt, you won’t be all you can be
like not forever in debt, and not addicted to spree.

So try, if you can, to stay away from their pen,
‘cuz once you’ve served pork, the fork will pitch you again.
The rancor soon may soil you, so don’t you let them spoil you.
Try not to ride piggy-back on Dirty Old Men
— like I did, like he did, like she did, like we did —
so you won’t have to fly a Phoenix out of their den.

No, don’t you ever listen to Dirty Old Men.
They’ll lick you and they’ll trick you, once more and again.
Adopt you and induct you, then drop you once they’ve f***ed you
An ol’ G.I. Joe, like me, for Barbie or Ken….
Well, *nearly* never listen to Dirty Old Men!
Sometimes there’s wisdom buried in this scary old man.

Don’t flash through the mall
don’t crash, burn, and fall
no Superman Kurt Cobain
nine-one-one hurricane

Now, I truly know it’s hard to believe
that a leopard* guy like me could play safe —
I don’t intend to suggest a Michael Jackson arrest,
‘cuz I don’t want to molest, or run my test on your faith.

Now, truly, all I’m hoping to do
is sit here, laugh, and listen to you,
and, maybe, even, get to know you,
and live to see you stake your way through….

I truly wish the best for you.

* * * * *

-- 2 February 2005, Wednesday, 2:15 PM


* Also (and equally), “lepered” (as in, an older man infected with HIV)