"all hail the oasis"

"all hail the oasis"
written because jive-talkin' is pretty sweet by jake kilroy.

mariachi lions loiter around my skull like a safari junkyard line-up,
smoking antelope bones and talking about the time they played drums,
all while my desert wasteland mouth sprouts palm tree poetry
and my tongue smacks against my gum with the ripe taste of death.

"all hail the oasis," comes the belt song of the crocodile king,
"for we have come so far for so much and we are ever so thankful.
now let us pray to the pale eyes, for they see all,
but they do not bring the wicked racket of ears."

every animal that could carve up another animal slumps,
begging forgiveness for a hot minute of sparkling fire gut,
before the growl within them tackles their own inhibitions.

"these cats ain't cats," one lion finally mumbles.
"ain't nobody here but us cats," another jives.
"then let's play," croons the lion with the most tail.
they adjust their bow ties and play.

"he was seasoned like a salty summer,
but so was the moon he saw before slumber,
a white plate spinning so slow for a bath,
some wine pool a king would lap up for a laugh,"
sings the only lion with sunglasses.

cheap shots and top pot drain the wildlife of their mania,
and they claw at their own giggles and curl up to sleep,
somewhere in the wide-open watering hole of my neck,
and they dream and dream and dream and dream
until they're sick to their own stomachs.

but, man, when that mariachi lion band plays,
there ain't any cats around that can swing better than me.