Punk Jim Le Scheherazade

Punk Jim Punk Jim
In his old tin flats
Mania in his cranium
And painted rainbow cats
He lets the hoodrats paint them
And the cats don’t try to fight
See, the paint’s infused with ketamine
And they wander in every night

Punk Jim Punk Jim
With his nebula hair
Glittered and dark rainbow
Stained glass in his stare
He’s got the body of a leper
And the instincts of a lynx
Surrealist desert emotions
And he lives off of a jinx

Punk Jim Punk Jim
Collects psilocybin from his sink
The residue builds up
From the pipes on down from the mildewy creek
Horchata Rambo Jackson’s shaking bad when they come down
Take off their hover boots in the mud room
When they come around

“Punk Jim” says the leading man
“The cats around here yet?”

“They’ll be in the back by now” Jim says,
“Go easy boys, who’s next?”

And they line up for their oxy shots
And prescription crack rocks
Stimco advocates for speedballs
And it’s a fad down by the docks
Manly Boy Remus is next
Jim sees the sulphur on his prints
He remembers the tin flat bombings back then
Hasn’t seen his wife since
And a single air bubble finds it’s way into his shot
Because he’s always lived here
Wouldn’t you know
And Punk Jim won’t get caught

Punk Jim Punk Jim
Has secrets in his palms
The magic man has magic thoughts
And can still recite from psalms
“O daughter of Babylon etc, and blessed is he
Who bashes their kids’ skulls against the rocks
As they did unto me”

Punk Jim Punk Jim
In his old tin flats
And another “OD”
And five freshly painted cats
Another grisly friday night
As the kids stagger back out
And Rambo Jackson’s crying
And Plum Balloon is filled with doubt
Punk Jim Le Scheherazade
Watches them leave
As wailing, useless sirens
Are the only ones to grieve
Eastborge is lit up with action
They make a mess of sight and sound
And everyone in the Flats dissolve
When the investigation comes around