Thunder Pants

Thunder Pants Too bad I was your Rembrandt in waiting Though you sensed you were Ms Convenience So many days in a chamber debating Instead of between sheets of Salinas There you go again Mount Vesuvius – in your hands Manufacturing pain Emphatically – Thunder Pants (your cross you bear is burning dangerously near) (Here seeking comfort from anxiety wizened) So soon the ejector seat after the thrill Brings the acid to the back of your teeth You can’t let it go like a Janice girl So it’s almost time to lay a wreath A rational man would cut you dead But testosterone makes fools of the best Sometimes it seems that you’re talking nice But I know it’s the crack end of the bench It’s a midday roast and my tongue is dry Anticipating that rapier sledge