Poems in Dedication to the Whooshay #1

Poems in Dedication to the Whooshay #1
By Shawn Misener
Electric veins running through plastic cows
involved in shampoo experiments.
Fur trophies line the cedar walls while
kool-aid sap seeps through the emergent cracks.
You’re here to meet the barnacle sage
the sexually active guardian of loose change
the purveyor of fine ice creams:
The Whooshay!
Whooshay! Whooshay!
We all say
late into the teal stained night.
We dance naked and
We dance fully clothed and
We follow the leader to the hallowed aisles
of the mega-mart.
The Whooshay cloaked in superman sherbert
hand in the bulk food granola
toes ejaculating oil for the masses to drink
slipping in petroleum dreams.
We want Whooshay!
The funk band vamps from the parking lot.
The acolytes dance
in the shadow of cola tidal waves.

0 thoughts on “Poems in Dedication to the Whooshay #1

  1. Misener, don’t give up the pen because of that witty 8 year-old girl and her pig poem–trudge on man! I Loved the first 2 stanzas of imagery ‘intro-ing’ poem: “Electric veins running thru plastic cows [you see, plastic cows always trump pigs and cake]…Fur trophies line the cedar walls while koolaid sap seeps through the emergent cracks…”–nice word-smithing! I sensed a ‘consumer awareness identity {crisis}’ theme thruout..topped off with an exotic parade led by this wild mentor of a drum-major called ‘Whooshay’–perhaps the bastard child of Jim Morrison and Ralph Nader engaged in Dionisian harem suare’ at the Motel 6?

  2. Thanks for the advice. . . all eight-year olds are LAME! (just kidding, Maya)
    But yeah, the Whooshay is actually the focus of a novel I’m writing. He’s a syrupy, consumer cult leader/icon. . . these poems are dedications to him. Feel free to write one or two. . .I’ll put them in the book if they aren’t completely worthless. Imagine the Osho trading spiritualism for materialism and blind consumer fulfillment. No relation to Nader or Morrison… but maybe to Don Dellillo

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