The Sushi Train

Perspicacious pimps make jingles out of crime.
The crèche of dope is there, if you need ‘quiet time’.
Incipient, the sushi train roars round the bends of fate,
Princess Origami smokes 'cause Madam Skim is late.

Animals on menus, the blood of saints for sale.
Refugees from a sunken earth scuba dive beyond the pale.
Madam Skim now orders up to celebrate the end
of another war where no one knew who was foe or friend.

Her mind is like a chopping block crawling with new germs.
She can’t decide who to love, guess it’s not her turn.
The anorexic Princess has given up on feeling.
She settles for the social whirl, like a fan stuck to the ceiling.

Princess Origami sits, thin as mountain air.
Madam Skim chatters on and pretends she isn’t there.
The lexicon of what went wrong is like a spreading stain.
Madam Skim is ogling what’s on the sushi train.

Popcorn sales of absolutes dot the glassy road.
The Princess kisses princes who keep turning into toads.
Tired now from seeking her milieu’s UFO’s;
fact’ry quick connections ‘tween see saw so and so’s.

Lovers laugh, back to back, as baby goes to sleep.
Merlin and the seven dwarves manufacture ecstasy.
Bargain basement Madam Skim is counting out her money.
Wants to buy the book of love; thinks it might be funny.

Somewhere gentle creatures are hiding in their burrows.
The work of man is paralleled in patient,earthy furrows.
The golden fields of barley shake whispers out of silence.
The sushi train goes round again without a hint of violence.