It comes out tomorrow! Be ready! This is included in the chap, which rules.
She has the eyes of a wooden train
and the top hat of a fat controller,
singing and dancing like
a hundred red balloons over
the island of Sodor.
She has the perfect spoon
hanging nose, the kind out of
which you would eat ice cream
or Apple Jacks, or cook some
crack with a little lemon juice.
Her dirty pillows sparkle
like the moon on its birthday,
swinging to and fro until
feathers fly and someone
gets an eyeful of zipper.
Her legs are like baseball bats,
wooden like pirate stems or
the trains coming out of her
peepers, autographed by Jim Rice
and sold at auction for thousands.
I suck on them, her eyes I mean
until she is blinded, by science,
I would later tell people. For now
I put her to sleep by placing a
slice of turkey over her face.
“Parts” is just your typical absurdist love poem. Because of the first stanza, my wife initially thought this was my love ode to Emily, the lovely and really useful engine from Thomas & Friends. Really, the first line comes from a drunkenly sung opening line from “Sweet Child O’ Mine.” The rest just moves on to other body parts, with the usual references to Carrie, a Frank Asch book, and Thomas Dolby.