Is Lady gaga the energizer bunny, soft, pink flesh and sunglasses or is she a fairy who leads me out of the forest, singing with her honest songs because we’re all a little lost?
Peter Yowie Poetry
Peter Yowie Poetry
Is Lady gaga the energizer bunny, soft, pink flesh and sunglasses or is she a fairy who leads me out of the forest, singing with her honest songs because we’re all a little lost?
An American woman on the tram talking with her friend about setting a trap for a mouse, you use chocolate not cheese. I’d just been at the Hive shopping centre, shopping for my addictions, a deal in my pocket, a six pack of beer. But they were a couple of ladies in laughter trying to live happily ever after.
The truth is I have to change, it’s like a light bulb hangs in my soul. There’s shivers on the surface of the river and I’m delivered from another night of drinking. In the thinking man’s Cafe I sink back a coffee with a copy of a book. I think the great poets have a name for it throughout history, it’s called publish or perish.
Pop music sends me down the rabbit hole to Michael Jackson’s tea party, to the bearded lady, the queer and the weird. Ivy starts to grow on their iron gates of hate, stilettos and a superman Cape, a peck on the cheek from Madonna is like a moon in the window, like a wink from the Mona Lisa.