to live and shave in l.a. – ‘twas he who pricked with an awl lyrics
smelly joe who was a, like, usurper
in the purchase of bits of ironmongery
mapped a sordid universe of “heels” and “tramps”
mentioned most often in surviving accounts
‘twas he who pr+cked with voltaic pile
so remote from the sphere of eroticism
“they don’t make cops of boys your age+“
took my cats to hear their ill+stration
and the upper three for the weaver’s side
between turkey+c+ck and female hide
they worshipped nature in the raw
one part to borrow books and one part “gal’s nuhves…”
the grinning gizmo and too hot for h+ll
‘twas he who pr+cked with feast days there
in the flame of dirty, blue, brutal jowls
‘twas he who pr+cked with timid awl…
returned to boil (and broken open)
remote from spheres, heavy emotions
‘twas he who pr+cked with grinning awl+
‘goin’ on cruel jolt, still a bachelor…”
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