I had to push an oyster through a coin slot
to go on my favorite ride,
The Monkey with Two Backs.
The boardwalk was teeming
with inquisitors that night,
but I had a little Time to Kill
before we went onstage.
The sign said
You have to be THIS BIG
to go on this ride,
which should have been no problem,
until I learned I had to stand up straight
to qualify.
We did
The Monkey Dance
Like there was No Tomorrow
and for all I knew that night, there was none,
and if there hadn’t been
I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
By the time I got inside the theater
My friends were already
Performing like Porn Stars.
I stood there gawking behind her
as she bent over
leaning forward
on her knees,
swallowing
the Anaconda.
Her face was turned away from me,
but her blind eye
winked knowingly,
inviting me
to come inside,
like a starfish
doing jumping-jacks.
Mister Weasel’s French cousin
Monsieur Huis’elle was
Patiently awaiting
A nod, a wink
and a flash of pink
From Madame Huis’elle
(she is no mere Mademoiselle, to be sure)
to mount Jacob’s ladder
and climb
the Tower of Babel
to perch on the platform,
wings spread
like an Anhinga,
as I launched myself into the rafters,
poised for the longest of instants
hanging in midair,
I imagined I was
diving out of a midnight-black sky
so full of stars you couldn’t count them all
in a hundred centuries,
straight down
into a single clam
naked
Laid Wide-Open,
and slathered with salty butter
on two half-shells.
Ta-Dah!
(she was delicious).
