My Boy Delivers

Comedy hip-hop cabaret, full intensity from the first instant, variable tempo with pauses and sudden ensemble stops; a lurching two-step against a funky half-time bounce, swells and plateaus, Brassy tuba drives the groove with contrapuntal runs against nimble low bassoon counterpoint, bass cello and brushed snare, Ultra-loud, low-register female lead delivers dry theatrical patter with sly twang, trills and exaggerated vibrato, opening into a powerful full-voice belt; exactly eleven catchy melodic hooks land across glee-club harmonies, Clean, clear studio-quality mix keeps the belt up-front against heavy reverbs and echoes in a resonant cave; applause marks section ends

V6-WILD

Now recently someone, a boy, I forget which,
Left a book on my nightstand, a Hafez, in English
Between his vape pen and a half-eaten sandwich
I opened a page and my God it was major

This Persian, this poet, this glorious lush
Understood me completely without all the fuss
He wrote of young cupbearers pouring with tanned hands
Their robes flaring open, a woman understands...

I ordered a GoPuff at quarter to three
Some mixers, some olives, a battery
The boy at the door was a Nubian dream
With a thermal bag, slides, and a jawline supreme

Gimme a tribute boy, a service, a sacramental pour
To the kitchen find the flagon, no the big one, pour it slow”
He said “lady I deliver chips”; I said “not anymore”
He put down the bag and delivered after I locked the front door

Oh yes he delivered me a bottle and .. eh.. a 10 incher -- nice!
I opened my thighs and thought: the prophet's been precise

By the second week the boy had settled into ritual
He poured, I drank, he poured again; the cycle was habitual

I read him some Hafez; he read me some back,
In a voice like a cello made love to cognac
Of history, magnificent, ruthless, and sprawling
He gripped my headboard and I heard the Lord calling
Or possibly that was the neighbors again
Who can tell when you're channeling Hafez at ten
He says “yes ma'am” and goes back to his duties..
I sat on his face like a sultan on rubies...

There are days when God sends a GoPuff
Who doesn't complain and who doesn't say stuff
And doesn't ask questions and doesn't need feeding
Except in the biblical sense; and he's reading
My Hafez out loud while he’s.. hmm.. delivering

It stands..  he's the best thing that GoPuff delivers
He gives me the shakes and the sweats and the shivers

He said you're my favorite of all destinations
I said I'm not a destination.... I'm a shrine
Rumi said lovers don't finally meet somewhere
They're in each other all along, and there..

My Boy? Send more wine. and
I need a dozen wine-pourer toys 
-  which delivery service employs
Cupbearer boys? Besides Gopuff? Call them

2380/7500

Now I know I'm clever in every endeavor I make to appear more appealing My brilliant mind forever entwined With everything useful, so dealing With young men for me is a noble affair and once I get a boy I make him stay there A career I have built on the thighs and the biceps Of beautiful men; they worship, they taste full.... Now recently someone, a boy, I forget which, Left a book on my nightstand, a Hafez, in English Between his vape pen and a half-eaten sandwich I opened a page and my God it was major This Persian, this poet, this glorious lush Understood me completely without all the fuss He wrote of young cupbearers pouring with tanned hands Their robes flaring open, a woman understands... I ordered a GoPuff at quarter to three Some mixers, some olives, a battery The boy at the door was a Nubian dream With a thermal bag, slides, and a jawline supreme Gimme a tribute boy, a service, a sacramental pour To the kitchen find the flagon, no the big one, pour it slow” He said “lady I deliver chips”; I said “not anymore” He put down the bag and delivered after I locked the front door Oh yes he delivered me a bottle and .. eh.. a 10 incher -- nice! I opened my thighs and thought: the prophet's been precise By the second week the boy had settled into ritual He poured, I drank, he poured again; the cycle was habitual I read him some Hafez; he read me some back, In a voice like a cello made love to cognac Of history, magnificent, ruthless, and sprawling He gripped my headboard and I heard the Lord calling Or possibly that was the neighbors again Who can tell when you're channeling Hafez at ten He says “yes ma'am” and goes back to his duties.. I sat on his face like a sultan on rubies... There are days when God sends a GoPuff Who doesn't complain and who doesn't say stuff And doesn't ask questions and doesn't need feeding Except in the biblical sense; and he's reading My Hafez out loud while he’s.. hmm.. delivering It stands.. he's the best thing that GoPuff delivers He gives me the shakes and the sweats and the shivers He said you're my favorite of all destinations I said I'm not a destination.... I'm a shrine Rumi said lovers don't finally meet somewhere They're in each other all along, and there.. My Boy? Send more wine. and I need a dozen wine-pourer toys - which delivery service employs Cupbearer boys? Besides Gopuff? Call them

0/500