the entourage

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The Stone Hill All-Stars

6:08

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Mouth foams as he roams the length of the fence the little man built to contain him
Blinking as he limps, chattering like a chimp, hallucinations ring like Poe's Tintinnabulation
Black images swim, fevered tinkling stings the inside of his doggone mind
He rubs one ear in the mud and then the other
The rabid dog

The little man calls his place "the catacombs - the superdome of mobile homes"
Bootleg tape shakes the splintered window frames with a fine spray of ohms
The dead, straight from the haight, may, '68, vibrates as he squats like a gnome
And trombones a week's worth of macaroni and kid-sized ice cream cones
The best dinners he's ever known
The squatting gnome

Above the sun-stained linoleum floor, his knobby hand compresses the folding door
He kicks his stump foot at a fly, its eyes, little geodesic domes refracting bits of kitchen Chrome
It's legs bending as if  he's genuflecting before a breadcrumb twice the size of its head
It buzzes ovals towards the lake, half a wing glued to the leg of the gnome's plastic table
The dying fly

The carp eyed where the hook had impaled his pal, her mouth torn open and folded Under
A badge of honor to him, that silver lip torn asunder; a rush of blood flutters the length of His tail
He heard that a whale once circled the lake before the gray boat with the foghorn led Him Away
Now, sandwiched by the others, he swallows spawn, moves on, camouflaged in his Glimmering entourage
A mirage

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer