Poetry – EGG POOT FROTH

EGG POOT FROTH

Egg poot froth

          Egg poot froth

                   Masticated in magenta mandibles

Egg poot froth

                   Migrating magnificently

                                                          Nowhere

Tooth drip spew

          Tooth drip spew

                   Grips the tortured trebles

Tooth drip spew

                   Tangibly trembling

                                                          In the air

Egg poot     Tooth drip

While the tragic hobo jungle bum

                   Constructs the new day

                                      And rambles on his way

                                                          Egg poot froth

                                                                             Egg poot froth

Egg poot

          Tooth drip

                   Froth spew

While the hobo bum

          Creates the day anew

Gypsy Queen Princess

          Illuminates the new day

                   Dancing through magenta dawn

                             To where the hoboes play

                   Egg poot froth

                             Egg poot froth

She chooses wisely

          As the magic hoboes pose

Evades the tooth and spew

          That every pooter knows

                                      Tooth drip spew

                   Maxillae clatter

                   And labia vibrate

                   Hoboes spurt

                   Pooters can’t wait

Egg poot froth                         Egg poot froth

Young dudes rush and prance

          While claw and tooth cleave

Old jungle bums

          Reap the day and leave

Tooth drip            Spew

The Gypsy Queen Princess

                   Discards her froth and poots

                                      Another day is born

                                                          Another pooter shoots

Egg poot froth

                                      Egg poot froth

                                                                             That’s all there is!

Egg poot froth

                                      Evolution’s come to this!

Opher 12.7.00

All this talk of Captain Beefheart took me back to this poem I wrote back in 2000. It is an attempt to capture something of his inimitable style. So obviously it failed horribly as nobody can ever come close.

But it was fun. I visualised it as a performance piece. At one time I was discussing dressing up as a pantomime horse with my mate Rich, walking around Hull with me reciting this through the horses backside.

Somehow he wasn’t keen.

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