Red Tin Noodles

60’s "Fifth Beatle" DJ, turned dentist: Murray Decay
Wild west folk hero with esophageal spasms: Wild Bill Hiccup
Ball club made up of little Cratchits: Tiny Team
Disney memorabilia above the fireplace: Mickey Mantlepiece
Ex Supreme Court judge becomes ruler of England: Warren Berger King
If Kong had freed captive animals: Ape Lincoln
Fractured arm supports and spray cans: slings and aerosols
Mouth big enough to fit a Duncan: Yoyo Maw
Walk softly and carry loopless pants: Theodore Sans a Belt
Beaver Cleaver actor, really stoned: Cottonmouth Mather
"Goodbye Columbus" author’s vineyard pride: Grapes of Roth
Marshall Wyatt, 50’s funnyman Ed & Amelia Earhart: Earp, Wynne and Flyer
Attic steps collapsed onto former first family: "Stairs Fell On All Obamas"
Sneaked looks at identical babies: Twin Peeks
Where Mr. Franklin wore his corsage: Benjamin Buttonhole
What Yoda said when Sean Coombs urinated behind his hut: "Pee, did he?"
Pollinating insect’s weekly calendar book: bee fifty-two
Fifth president moves to Baltimore: Maryland Monroe
Most popular Irish name north of U.S. border: O’Canada
Fletcher Christian hires devils to help in Bounty mutiny: "I’ll Get Bligh
With a Little Help From My Fiends"
Ladies who wash snot rags in large vats: Hankie Tank Women
"Water Music" accompanied by sickly-sweet cartoon ursine dancers:
Handel with Care Bears
Preferring sunburn to straight talk: "I’d rather be red than dead serious"
It’s not SNL actor Chase, but someone who annoys me: He ain’t Chevy,
he’s my bother
Why a man keeps his sock puppet parrot in the freezer: To Chill a Stocking Bird
The horrid also’s: terrible too’s
Mother sheep’s distress cry: Ewe Howl
Counting off shore birds: tern, tern, tern
Dr. Seuss breakfast for tortured Danes: Green Eggs and Hamlet
NASA bought these space walk essentials at the childhood home of the savior:
G-Suits of Nazareth
The cul de sac where cows are struck with ball peens: Moo Hammered Alley
Ms. Farrow in NY’s most contemporary gallery: MOMA Mia
Favorite inn of John Wayne and Dodger slugger Snider: Put Up Your Dukes
Daffy sings while musical mates play versions of popular songs: Duck and Cover band
Underwater sport hairstyle: scuba do
"Walking After Midnight" singer’s final altitude change: Patsy decline
Favorite kids’ drink at the Indiana Jones Theme Park: Shirley Temple of Doom
Thinking man’s favorite thermally-insulated clothing brand: Cerebral Gore Tex
How Harpo Marx played Sir Galahad: silent knight
Sickest position on a football team: sneeze guard
Contact influenza from a door opener: flu off the handle
Shade of blue favored in both Minneapolis and St. Paul: teal of two cities
Dark Taylor: semi sweet Baby James
Where the Pink Panther kept his wine: Peter’s cellar
Ancient Egyptian ruler’s spigot: Pharaoh faucet
CBS newscaster Dan’s special tie skill: Rather knot
Scientific phenomenon wherein really bad jazz pulls you down: Kenny G force
Dogs’ all-time favorite game show host: Bob Barker
What Patriots head coach calls his daily monitoring of midriff girth: Bill’s belly check
Before cutting hair, Delilah always served her men this special juice blend: O.J. Sampson
She sang loudly and lived under the sea: Ethel Mermaid

Kneel Young – Catechism Instruction booklet for pre-schoolers
Franklin Mint . – after dinner treat from the Queen of Soul
Conway Twitter – Hashtag Kellyanne
Meat the Beetles – Japanese insect cookbook
Chelsea Mourning – post-election state of H’s daughter
Fife and Drum – concept album by Don Knotts and Buddy Rich
Princess Dye – hair coloring product from Disney
Al Franken Sense – 2020 campaign slogan
Taco Bell de Jour – Mexican remake of Catherine Deneuve movie
Earnest Borg Nine – sequel to "Wall-E"
Stand and Deliver – necessary birthing technique under Trump Care
Gym Morrison – health club for roues
Wrecks Read – someone who tells you a book’s ending
Thyme Is On My Side – what Rosemary said
Bum Steer – a bad driver
Pall Anchor – male version of Debby Downer
Bucking Bronco – one who coughs without covering their mouth
Tailor Swift – one-hour clothing repair chain
Elizabethan Warren – where rabbits lived in the sixteenth century
Cruise Control – Scientology
Gnome Chompsky – a little guy who eats with his mouth open
Bawl and Chain – S&M parlor
Creedence Clearwater – NO DAPL !!!!
Merlot Haggard – morning state after wine drunk
Dolly Partin’ – when a girl gives up her childhood toys
Miles Standish – SRO zone at any large stadium
Rubber Sole – Mickey D’s filet o’fish
Dawn Rickles – the marks around your eyes in very early morning
Perry Combover – any old guy in a button-up sweater
Kelly Ripa – the south Boston guy who tore your green shirt
Med flight – hip way to say going to rehab
Drag strip – United Airlines aisle
Tom Waits – male cat behavior during mating season
Nein Inch Nails – a fingernail biter
Johnny B Good – second best rating on Fodor’s Urinal Guide
Berry Manilow – new Ben & Jerry’s flavor
Jiff Sessions – sneaking peanut butter in middle of night
The Four Tops – conservative section of Supreme Court
Deer Prudence – being careful around wildlife
Flying monkey – addiction to air travel
Blue Oyster Cult – anyone who’s ever had food poisoning
Connie Francis – talking mule’s low-profile wife
Lena Horne – cool name for alto sax
Take Five – NBA draft theme song
Joe Tory – British coffee
Big Poppy – heroin
Kool Hand Luke – menthol cigarette smoker
Sean Spicer – how to liven up the taste of your seans
Cat in the Hat – bald-headed jazz musician
Grace Jones – when you’re really itchin’ for religion
Pied piper – plumber with acne
Tammy Wynette – what you have to use when you can’t find your Tammy Wherenette.

Madness is in the eye of the beholder,
said a man who lived in a toy box.
It’s accepted when a kid or much, much older.
In the interval between, it shocks.
His walls once were Lincoln Logs and Plastic Bricks.
Each toy in his box had their peculiar tricks.
He would play all day in quietude quite deep,
except for forced interludes of food and sleep.
When asked who were favorites from amongst his friends,
he said one-armed soldier and strange thing that bends.
Holidays and birthdays filled him up with joy
when he introduced to that box his new toy.
Then came dreaded school and time was regulated.
Homework was priority, play now berated.
Soon was introduced a glove and baseball bat.
His toy box was closeted; imagine that.
His room filled with baseball cards and model cars.
Walls were tacked with athletes and music stars.
He bought 45’s, "Hound Dog" and One Fine Day."
That toy box was sealed with tape and put away.
Decades passed and he had children of his own.
None of them reacted when his box was shown.
Stuff today lit up, moved and made lots of noise.
To them it was just a coffin of dead toys.
Many years went by, now he’s back in his box,
having gone through several strokes and aftershocks.
Wooly Willie’s on his shelf with Slinky and those men of tin.
Now it is acceptable for him to be a child again.

No one saw the last strike coming,
on the inside corner humming.
No one saw the walk off homer,
save the hermit Astrodomer.
No one saw the infield fly
never exit from the sky.
All the rules that once applied
disappeared and our sport died.
Stolen bases weren’t returned.
Fireballers really burned.
What were dugouts became trenches.
Kamikazes roamed the benches.
In the bullpen, short relievers
were the last hope of believers.

Our military found a way to make cows fly.
Now, every time they take a shit, some folks might die.
A cow flop dropped from fifty feet up might not matter.
But from half a mile the thing makes quite a splatter.
All day, conscripted cows are fed on tasty grasses.
Then, at night, they drop their turds on foreign asses.
One huge one-eyed cow they called ‘Cyclops’
dropped last week the mother of all flops.
Bovine bombs have even disturbed ranks at ISIS,
who must now condemn this U.S. cow crap crisis.
So far, enemies get just one break.
When they shoot one down, they all eat steak.

Thinking machine warped.
That was the rumor.
Perhaps a pressure on the brain,
a tumor?
No reason for the aberrant behavior.
No defenders, certainly no savior.
And now the time had come
to pay the price.
The options like a pair of loaded dice.
Go back on point
and thus return to normal.
Declare oneself insane
and make it formal.
Regardless, said the judge,
of what your choice is, you must
kill off at least one set of voices.
Or pick eternal quietude instead.
Then spend your days
amongst the living dead.
But, lo, he found the back route
out of hell
that hung inside the haven of his cell.

I am in the middle of an instant revolution
when the alarm rings and I am sent back
to my sedentary self. No planet has my calendar
on its docket. Eight ball, side pocket.
Suddenly, I’m back on the green and, sight unseen,
I disappear. My hideaway dreams have outbid
t.v shows, and, like that, I’m on the front line
in small letters, watching tomorrow’s fortune today.

I knew a cow whose fur was made of sparks.
Because of this, he found that he’d been banned from many parks.
He longed to get into Comiskey.
But secret service found him frisky.
So, on his birthday, he drank whiskey.
And later tried to buy some weed from narcs.

He’s an indy cow. Indy cow.
And his yellow belly longs for peace.
He loves Indy chow. Indy chow.
His intestines sing selected songs from "Grease."

PUSH SPECIAL BUTTON SHAPED LIKE COW
choose song & import video now

NOTE: Indy cow can be any religion or sexual persuasion
He’s available for birthday fun or any old occasion

Buy tickets now for next month’s one cow performance:
"I sold my soul to Nike and became some Jordan Airs."

Phil Ochs Died For Our Sins 4/9/76

Its sprouts look like an onion bulb,
but smell like vanilla, or, in some strains,
cinnamon, the driver explained as we careened
along rain-slicked back roads to his country home.
I was still wearing my suit and had brought nothing.
Curtailing my long explanation, he pointed a hitcher’s thumb
toward the back seat and said, "you can wear my work shirt."
There, on a wire hanger, was a bright blue tie-dyed tee.
Quick as that, everything was cool.
And the world’s greatest song played on his cassette deck.

The sheep was out of bounds.
Horses, hookers and dolls were o.k.
But everybody hits rock bottom.
Next morn it’s up and climbing.
Every day thereafter is a mountain.
Praying for a foothold.
Cactus is your only friend.
And at the apex, what awaits you
but a downhill slide over scree,
shale, thorn, bark and bother.
Another fall, another winter.
A drop in the bucket of slop
that seems to be the destiny of man.

Trapped inside, like water.
Outside, chain link and barbed wire.
Concrete mesa and rock ledge.
Broken glass and bottles thrown
from on high. A wave of pulsing oil.
Here comes a train again.
Lost dogs, guard dogs, devil dogs.
Red-eyed and hungry.
Screamed languages unheard,
almost as in song.
Forever chased to dead ends.
Rumors of a river downhill.
If only just one door to knock upon.
Long ago there were friendly faces.
In the times before the glass pipe.

He wandered into a fantasy of the prairie,
a silver spoon child with such a cute scowl.
He was going to be a cowboy, a spaceman,
a pirate. Pirate was in his genes.
He won all the Monopoly games because
his crying and tantrums made other options
much too painful for the players involved.
He said, "Big blocks good." He loved adjectives.
He would mumble, "Pretty, pretty," as he
stroked the skin of thin young women.
He had trouble reading and cheated at math.
He had no friends and he scared his enemies.
He bullied and lied his way into power.
His handlers claimed his tantrums
made him more interesting and ‘real.’
He pulled many strings and broke promises.
And yet his hangers-on hung on.
He was orange. He was red. He was fuzzy.
He was a muppet in wolf’s clothing.

Develop your dexterity
in practice of sincerity.
Achieve internal parity.
Such balance is a rarity.
Resolve the mind’s distortion.
Remove outside extortion.
Learn how to reapportion.
Become one with Frank Gorshin.

An arcade in the wilderness
has plunged our eagle into debt.
He thought he’d rule the wildlife pool.
But that was one bad bet.
His chips were down on common ground.
His talons lost their grip.
He flew too high and from grey sky
he spied a sinking ship.
With big bucks down on swim or drown,
he watched it all go under.
His realm was once our freedom’s wave.
But that’s all torn asunder.

Massive staircase to minimum space.
Shuttling between orbits of gum.
Sticking to the outside of the inside pages.
Words pink and puckered by habit.
There is no recourse to history’s racecourse.
The favorites will win. The scrappers will show.
The course is long and designed as unending.
The bending of rules is assumed.
There is nothing here within to survive the great without.
Breath is an adventure the living assume.
Nothing says the door cannot come down and end the play.

It’s time to bear the pall.
The pendulum is still.
The pit is split. The world is small.
The wind is cold and chill.
To deep holes in our sacred ground
are lowered profane veins.
The black blood flows through them unbound.
The earth will wear the stains.
The sounds of prayer hang in the air
and mix with tear gas fumes,
the body snatchers unaware
the curse their hoe exhumes.

The blue spot fades to heartfelt red
as the sun broils my eyelids.
This is a hint of spring, even behind
the cool glass veil. The dogwood barks.
Cat o’ nine tails wag. Even a hint
of birdsong on the softening breeze.
Soon all will be green again,
and, if not well, at least warm.
There is, then, one good thing to cherish.