"Blood Oranges and Purple Beets"

Wired-out green trees speaking and whispering to me
about a vision of life in the tropics.
Neon lights on the cobblestone streets
high-lighting the iron black lace
on her spiked leather thigh-high boots.
Slowly I scan the area with dark mirrored glasses,
while sipping my blood orange juice,
with cocktail umbrella crushed under heel,
loud pictures on exhibition behind pale glass.
Ambrosia(sniff/sniff) meets my nostrils,
the scent of life crosses the stoned street,
I follow...

Taxies, kakies and oppressive heat
coming down the pike,
I follow thy scent...
I sense gators roaring their mating calls,
sweet water rushing over blue falls.

Meanwhile,
back in New York an answering machine
with unanswered calls
and a bad case of blue balls, halls, balls and stalls
crowded with the blind leading the blind,
It's all behind me by so many miles and smiles,
oceans and seas,
by my tanned skin I....FLASH!

I catch the scent again,
shark fins know I'm close
as I follow the trail of blood oranges and purple beets,
happily lost in the sweet red sauce of life,
a life without strife with Ambrosia as my wife!

Suddenly!
A tarzan like fool screams something in the distance.
Ambrosia hands me my shotgun.
She's so sweet!

It's time to have some fun with
blood oranges and purple beets.

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