I remember that Rock ‘n’ Roll
As it played the night we had sex.
That cute little stuffed giraffe,
you had won at the carnival, sleeping
beside the case of empty beer
we drank as we rocked and rolled.
Afterwards, we fell into a peaceful sleep
that brought about funny dreams of zombies
dancing at a burlesque, while giraffes
twirled upon poles. In the center of the chaos we were having sex.
I awoke with a need for sex,
chugging the shot before it curdled the beer.
We gave that poor giraffe
another show as that Rock ‘n’ Roll
song gave us a rhythm of zo-ah-mbi-ay, zo-ah-mbi-ay, zo-ah ah ah-mb-ay ay ay-ie.
Sufficient to say we didn’t get much sleep.
That night, now plagues my sleep
as the emotions of my sex
began to take hold…leaving me in a zombie
trance. Where beer
joints…with their rock ‘n’ roll
vibe, began to occupy my thoughts away from a certain giraffe.
Though that little giraffe
seemed to help me fall into fitful sleeps,
since I could smell a hint of rock ‘n’ roll
musk, as I cuddled him close to my sex.
The sleep induced haze brought on by beer
showed the fall of the burlesque, behind my closed eyes; the end of the dancing zombies.
You go to that dumb zombie
parade. Where you’ll snap photos of women…those sluttish giraffes!
As I drown the beer
to fall asleep
to dreams of sex
long gone. Where I killed Rock ‘n’ Roll.
I can’t just rock and roll
away the passionate sex.
So, I succumb once again into your embrace…where I fall into a peaceful sleep.