there once was a mongolian barbecue
where two old ladies sat in their rocking chairs to drink steam tea
every afternoon, it was predictable
and the townspeople set their clocks
to the rhythm of the chairs going back and forth, to and fro,
to the precise moment they called noon when
the old backs reclined again and paper lips
reached down to levitating teabags in steam
they called themselves molly and polly and sonny and bunny
though there were only two
at the front of the bbq there was a gate with a rainbow pride flag
but this was all in the time before anybody had carved the name
gilgamesh into boulders and so one must assume that the
rainbow pride flag
was somewhat out of place, so perhaps there wasn’t one at all, really
it doesn’t matter because gays have always been around, you see,
but there was a flag
and it had a symbol on it, perhaps like crashing symbols in the back
of underappreicated symphonies
but it doesn’t matter because there have always been homosexuals
and the old ladies drank tea and ate roasted pork every day
at noon, staring at this deeply symbolic flag
you see, they were sisters and brothers and cousins, they were the world
and they called themselves uncle time and father wind and cousin flag
because in their senility, believed their womanly tendencies to be male
and that they were one with colored pieces of fabric and that
there were an infinite number of each of them, molly and polly and sonny and bunny all four
the porch was made of floppy disks that didn’t work anymore
so they nailed them right into the porch,
and to the roof of the bbq
who would have guessed, and corks too
they loved corks
they would go to wine galas just to get the corks that they
kept in the hollow skin of a llama who was once known as sally, but was eaten
by the bbq mongrels and senile infinates
but, you see, they loved this cork collecting idea and in their
spare rocking time between sips of steam they thrust out old english words that
described their booming business of cork jewelry
which was aimed at vegetarians, because you and I both know that
vegetarians all really do love cork, way down deep inside
it doesn’t matter, though
because there have always been homosexuals
back to the hollow llama, sally, she was a homosexual llama
but this is not to say that all llamas are homosexual
or that all homosexuals are llamas, quite to the contrary
she loved another llama named joanne
and back in the days of their non-hollowed youth they would sit
on porches and eat steamed grass and talk
about their factories and fantasies
joanne is hollow, now, too, and they keep her in the shed because the vegetarians
staged a protest during the symphony
and the homosexuals all started flossing in tandem
and it was all very unpleasant and molly and polly and sonny and bunny
still talk about it every now and again
nobody knew why there was a mongolian barbecue
when mongolia didn’t even exist, but the food was good
and even the vegetarians had a llama or two
every now and again, you see, it was that good
and sometimes they had a side of cork, if they were feeling up to it
every now and again
molly and polly and sonny and bunny all four
finished their steam tea and called it a night
when the sun set behind the bbq and sally was silhouetted
against the setting sun, because there have always been
homosexuals.
