Here's a little something. Someone, partner up /me if you like the words. Rich Courage wolfbearer7@hotmail.com

Blue Haired Baby


Let me tell you 'bout my blue-haired baby,
How her pink featherleathers drive me crazy,
How she wears a diamond skull upon her tongue,
And how the Steam-Punk band she leads
Has a drummer nicknamed "Bleed",
And her left thigh tattoo reads, "I EAT MY YOUNG!"

Orange lipbrush, neon hair,
Spiked green PVC underwear,
Some folks may find my Baby's tastes a trifle . . .strange.
Blood-Red eyes, allwild and scary,
Complexion like a dead canary!
Underweight{ooh}on the run{ahh}bummin'change!

My Baby rolls her blades or skates her Board
To get free donuts,"Thank The Lord!"
Every Sunday Midnight Mass in Thompkins' Square.
Tabouli hot-dogs, that's her trip,
Oreos with a salsa dip!
And nothing{I'm talkin' nothin'!}beats a Chocolate-Egg-Cream-Flavored Beer!

When we make love . . . sometimes my Baby goes away,
Huddles up deep, deep inside herself, and that's okay.
"Cause, see, we don't just "do it!", uh-uh, that's not a song within our Dance,
'Cause whatever scars she still bears from her Father's...loving touch,
I try with kisses, whispers & embraces to ease as much,
'Cause my Baby deserves some real lovin', true romance.

My Blue Haired Baby . . .

Her life's a falllllllllllllllllll
Without the crash!
So much time, so little cash!,
Her punkadelych soul burns dark to light!
And with her slam-dancin' by my side,
Life's just a Harley, barley ride,
Our hearts ablaze up, up, and out
Into the sweet and bitter
Lower East Side night! ~ Richard "Blueheart" Courage ~ East Vil/07