Abraham Lincoln Did Not Say That
Sorry, Bob. Lo siento, Bobby. You can fool most of the people
most of the time because everything is bigger on Facebook.
There’s a sucker born every minute. I think Orson Welles said that.
No. P.T. Barnum. No. Joe Pachinko, who liked to quote W.C. Fields
and play “Ruby Tuesday” on the Santa Cruz art gallery piano while
I sang my stained glass heart out under the influence of whatever was free
in a trust fund brat’s fabulous faux fur blue coat.
You can be in my dreams, they are, after all, general admission
but if you can arrange such things please be a doll and keep me outta yours.
Gracias in advance. There’s still sangre all over my tracks.
Fuck you. Thank you. You know it, motherfucker.
WOE is US
Listen, puto. I got a mermaid switchblade
and Virgo rising and survivor bitch genes and zero fucks.
Look into my gringa eyes and see the ghost of your mama
and all the dreams that will never come true for you.
You lose. I lose. God does not keep score. God does not care.
Who is keeping inventory? Paul Simon? George Michael in
Too Sexy For MTV hell? Yeah. I thought so.
Walk away slowly and nobody gets hurt.
Not very much.
Not enough to fill a jar and get drunk in Kentucky
on a crispy fried Saturday night while biscuits burn
in every oven.
Black Velvet Elvis
Maybe it’s Pluto and Uranus in the second house
but I tell ya, Charlie, I’m hungry for something
you won’t find at Walmart Target Safeway
Whole Foods Trader Joe’s Family Dollar.
I’m starving for something funky soulful deeply felt
aesthetically bacon aesthetically Dr. Pepper
something like a big fat piece of Memphis
in the form of a black velvet Elvis
where you can see the beads of sweat
his eyes are closed
because it hurts too much to see all the colors
you know he felt every fucking note
yeah baby
like white cream gravy
like onion rings in July
like fried chicken every Sunday
like coconut pie and black coffee at midnight
so Chupacabra Disco
let’s road trip to Mexico high or drunk or both
Piedras Negras
Acuna
Matamoros
Jose Alfredo Jimenez on the radio
we can toast the gods of indifference with Indio
and go shopping with our Texan American dollars
we’ll come home broke
but richer than ever
with our glory glory hallelujah black velvet Elvis
a talisman
an amulet
we can hang above
our favorite potty
“Abraham Lincoln Did Not Say That,” “WOE is US” and “Black Velvet Elvis” is included in Misti’s book of poetry Super Cherry Extra, available now at https://www.amazon.com/Super-Cherry-Extra-Misti-Rainwater-Lites/dp/1257867202
Misti Rainwater-Lites shuffles tarot cards to keep the lights on and scribbles lines and makes sick beats to maintain a semblance of sanity while melting from triple digit heat and menopause in San Antonio, Texas. She does it all for the nookie so you can take that cookie and shove it up your ass.
