On 'mercy buckets', and other poor attempts at speaking French.

Lafayette didn't do it
for the sake of being kind
so don't let the textbooks
fool you--
Do you really think
all the street names
in his honor mattered?
If anything, I'd say it was more
due to his hard-on
for Washington's wig.

"Lafayette, we are here," was
Col. Stanton's famous line
delivered at his grave in Paris, 1917
and even then it was too little
too late, the trenches
and the Kaiser be damned.

If every thug had a lady
there'd be no good songs written
ever again, and without adventures
in high crimes and infidelities
at least from a safe distance
we'd all fall asleep at the wheel
or pretend to and hope that
the life insurance policy pays out
to the proper beneficiary.

That's all fine and good for some
but God bless text sex
and a girlfriend good
with adjectives.

My bologna has a first name.
My sunblock has a shelf-life.
My God does this reek of a rehashed theme.
I wonder if when Atlas shrugged
his back fell out of whack like this.

Remember the Wonder
and you can rinse if you want
but sure as shit
don't repeat.
Why's it seem you've been twenty forever?

If and when I'm ninety
I want to own a white three-piece
that I can wear well after Labor Day
without anyone at the party
having the heart or the balls
to correct my blunder.

So mercy buckets, honey, oui
y lo siento, Senor Lafayette
if it means anything to anyone
this late in the game.

Some people say
good art should match your sofa;
I think it should match your floor.