A Art On Pike

"If you keep yelling at me, I'll have an orgasm,"
my back suddenly stifled,
my mind reeled for so long
I reached my wits end
and it went flip, flip, flip.

Because her error was palatable, it throbbed
between my temple
for good over a week.
Why do mistakes sic
out while wit flows?

That poet on Pike Street found the secret
to the memorable line:
something on key
with "scuse me while I kiss this guy."
or "hold me closer Tony Danza".

Not a rehash, but a miss-hash.
Have faith I made it
with the meaning in mind-
as if I can effect
its established shape.

Can one over-do the fox mistake?
The poetic mind places
each phase within
context, defining where
is what and what is not.

Reputation can only pave
over literal shortcomings
for very long so I fail
and supersede.

In the mine, words are
dessicated by sound,
meaning assigned,
giving one half an orgasm
and the other an aneurysm.