GONE GONZO

Catch Me If You Can

Career? A job? I’m busy working on my tan
Dabbled in the steps of corporate ladder
Looked up Stairway to Heaven –
And crashed on the Highway to Hell

Hard to get a hold of – overwhelm is my true helm
My dearest friends know not to expect
An immediate text back
Give me five, six business months
That’s much closer to my realm

Constant contact chokes the nation
Just cut the line before it begs
I flourish when I vanish – no name, daddy, only long legs
Aestheticized disassociation

Perfectly poised in pretty places –
Dressed my vita dolce, or maybe just in tan line
Can’t see me – time zones are my timeline
Unboxed like Cena, a stray feline

It’s itchy feet – the world’s my oyster
When my plate’s fullest, I just starve
Writing these lines, my soul I carve
While unanswered messages build cloisters

Everybody’s talking at me –
But busted blocks, they never caught my eye
A skyscraper’s just a stack of stuck low ceilings
I’d rather catch flights, rather catch feelings…

Believe me, I’ve met plenty of strict deadlines
But men in suits, they never seemed my type
I’m no doctor, no one’s dying
Rush Hour’s just surrealist–capitalist hype

“Are you deaf?” – “No, Yu is blind”
I see beauty everywhere, got love for all
I promise, I’ll court you in my heart forever –
Just please don’t expect a call

Not ALL Men

You’re not God fearing,
You only bought expensive streetwear.
“Berghain’s been divine, so healing,”
Preached Coked Out in the smoking lair

Shrooms taught you empathy, alright
(Code for: not that emotionally bright)
Here’s Bickle, Joker, The Lone Misunderstood…
But the joke’s on you – whole hood’s that mood

Men men men, manly men men
You dog the night down South –
Paw patrolling – that means left,
And you still think you’re “winning”???

Oh, you like rap? Name three hits, lad.
It’s hook-jab-hook – you feel invaded?!
Uppercut through upper hand
Bro’s not cross-bearing – he crossfaded

Hides ketamine in his protein shake
Blocked, blow, clinch – can’t flee
This is Ambush, bones may break
You’re not a butterfly, and you’re no bee

Not fly, but stung by an incense vape.
“Be water”? You’re a puddle, mate!
Not man. Not two. Not even half.
All I see’s A Bathing Ape.

Come On Barbie,
Light My Fire

I’m not tanning, I’m on fire
The Lizard Queen, burning Soul Kitchen
Steaming, sizzling, smoking up
My polished grill - glazed, perfect bite
Mug well-done, ribs snatched so tight

The mansion sits atop a hill
Like Maraschino against dill
Some shade, a chilled blue soup
Just begging for attendance
No allergies means hungry independence

Invite the gaze, it’s now a party
A Drag Ball cookout, so to say
Dress code is bare, we’re all born naked
Coco-oil cakes marinated
Sardine spread, think tinned and tucked fish
Plated poolside, deep-fried, ripe
Table’s not set, but yet we dish—

Libraries closed, we only roast
Now feast your eyes,
Propose a charred toast
Oops, Ruinart runs down to my toes

Hot-flame pink fuel, light up that Barbie
That Courtney Act snack type of mind
Nuked, microwaved, revived
The hostess gracious, well-advised
A ruined art, must improvise

Divine! Doors open, testing John Waters
Divided day, destroyed night, but hotter
Cracked open lid, we’re breaking through—
You thirsty now? We don’t serve water

Mommie dearest, am I canned?
Spill some tea, don’t keep it jammed
A skinny dip, my mind, perhaps
Defrost a little judgement lapse

So neatly stacked on a silver platter
Dessert for main, hors d'oeuvres the latter
We all look chopped, Mrs. Butterface
Clocked, removed from heat, end seasoned grace

But I think we could get much higher—
Entrée is glitter, excess the venue
That Kobe beef? Jerky’s not drier
Henny, we only serve what’s not on the menu

Sun simmers now, it’s early-late
Do you smell coffee?
Sickening! It’s Espresso Martini poured into a trophy
Starved for beauty, but girl, we ate!

Pacific Vengeance

All is fair in love and war
Think virgin fuck, Madonna/whore
Draped in barely there silk satin
Waltzing the tango, quoting Sartre in Latin

All just a shtick, a place to stick?
I am Pacific Vengeance
U down to dick?
Drown deep in decadent transcendence

Cue Champagne flutes of Diet Cola
New vintage Gucci, real faux-fur boa
But do not fear the constricted snake
For all she knows is ass to shake

Pacific Vengeance - B Side

Cheap trick, quick hit,
You shoot to thrill

You Dr. Feelgood or Goodwill?

Scripted surrender, overpriced
It’s Affleck and Damon, unsupervised
Hunting for good, but no solution
A hot mistake / sweet revolution?

Our sexy secret graced early morning
You filthy bastard, you´ve got me yearning
But the role you played tipped -
It’s flat, it’s overturning

Now we’re both left with balls blue

You’re sick and twisted, I like you
But don’t you know - I’m a sad clown, too

Notes from the Underground

In the labyrinth of desire
To exist means: be perceived
I see through you seeing me
No neon sign reads unreceived

Cards on the table – what do you bet on?
Is it compulsion, pride, or just control?
Don’t mind your Crimes,
I don’t seek Punishment

Gone Dostoyevsky –
You’re The Gambler,
I am
Gone Gonzo
On a roll