The Thrill Is Gone
rlgreenfieldl@netscape.com
l0-2l-06 The Thrill Is Gone
Their eyes are all dead. Nothing is moving. And Elvis Aaron Presley gave up the ghost. He lost his lust for amphetamines. And he had long ago quit looking at the girls. Elvis preferred pills & water & television. He had burned out his primary valves of desire. He still played a mean game of racquetball. And he was worth an academy award as couch potato. But that's all she wrote.
The thrill is gone. I read it in a sacred book. It was lying on the sidewalk next to a clean white pickup truck. The sky was clean as the kitchen floor after wash and wax. And nobody was breathing on the empire of white bread. You might say the musicians were still in bed at lunchtime. Why not? What's there to get up for? There were no beautiful women in the city or state or nation. They all moved to Arabia to protect the constitution.
Sure, just like the manual says. Tear open at the top pour into cup & add hot water. Three easy steps. Impossible to get lost. And there is no cigar smoke in the room to discombobulate the sex appeal. All things work together for good to those that read the paper. Don't forget to douse your head in cold water before you eat your salad. It'll take the dust out of the moonlight.
Now it's time for your afternoon nap. Be sure to close your eyes before you begin the deep-breathe muscle-relax brain pushups under the covers. That can get real tricky & mess up your dreams. And if the wheels come off your dreams you've got a whole turkey field full of trouble. Don't. wait until the love woman appears. She'll put you in super cool position for the hypnosis. Everything is down hill after that. All you need is raw melted butter. And all the popcorn you can eat.
No rocks. Lay off the hard stuff. Keep it warm & flowing. Or even hot & sizzling. Just so the whole proposition is on lower gravitational field with extra magnetic flakes in the glove compartment. You're all set. Don't wear any spectacles or long flannels. They are too conspicuous & may cause electro shock back lash or severe burning. You don't want any weekend contraband or Bible freaks. Lock the door & turn on the fire.
RLG Copyright 2006
l0-2l-06 The Thrill Is Gone
Their eyes are all dead. Nothing is moving. And Elvis Aaron Presley gave up the ghost. He lost his lust for amphetamines. And he had long ago quit looking at the girls. Elvis preferred pills & water & television. He had burned out his primary valves of desire. He still played a mean game of racquetball. And he was worth an academy award as couch potato. But that's all she wrote.
The thrill is gone. I read it in a sacred book. It was lying on the sidewalk next to a clean white pickup truck. The sky was clean as the kitchen floor after wash and wax. And nobody was breathing on the empire of white bread. You might say the musicians were still in bed at lunchtime. Why not? What's there to get up for? There were no beautiful women in the city or state or nation. They all moved to Arabia to protect the constitution.
Sure, just like the manual says. Tear open at the top pour into cup & add hot water. Three easy steps. Impossible to get lost. And there is no cigar smoke in the room to discombobulate the sex appeal. All things work together for good to those that read the paper. Don't forget to douse your head in cold water before you eat your salad. It'll take the dust out of the moonlight.
Now it's time for your afternoon nap. Be sure to close your eyes before you begin the deep-breathe muscle-relax brain pushups under the covers. That can get real tricky & mess up your dreams. And if the wheels come off your dreams you've got a whole turkey field full of trouble. Don't. wait until the love woman appears. She'll put you in super cool position for the hypnosis. Everything is down hill after that. All you need is raw melted butter. And all the popcorn you can eat.
No rocks. Lay off the hard stuff. Keep it warm & flowing. Or even hot & sizzling. Just so the whole proposition is on lower gravitational field with extra magnetic flakes in the glove compartment. You're all set. Don't wear any spectacles or long flannels. They are too conspicuous & may cause electro shock back lash or severe burning. You don't want any weekend contraband or Bible freaks. Lock the door & turn on the fire.
RLG Copyright 2006
posted by rlg at 1:01 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home