La Belle Dame Avec PĂ©nis

(Or a Warning -- Too Late! -- for David Carradine)
With apologies to Keats

by Michael J. Bayer

OH WHAT can ail you, Kwai Chang Caine,
     Lubed and solo traveling?
The hair wither'd now with age,
     And no more bling.

Oh what can ail you, killing Bill!
     So has-been and broken-nosed?
The grasshopper's long been caught,
     And the temple's closed.

I see a bandanna on thy brow
     Moist with lust and Thailand’s dew,
And on your cheeks a bluish rose
     Fast bloometh too.

I met a ladyboy in Bangkok,
     Half beautiful — with knowing stare.
I thought I spied above taut boobs
     An Adam's apple there.

I gave some Bahts to her friend,
     Amidst the Red Light zone;
She look'd at me as she did food,
     And made deep groan.

I took her to my hotel room,
     There we sojourned all day long,
So many ways could she bend, and sing
     Kelly Clarkson's song.

We found our roots of relish sweet,
     And honey wild, and manna dew,
Lisping in a pidgin speech she said —
     ''I wuv you blue.''

She tied me up from tip to tip,
     And for more I begged like a geek
And then she used the Five Point Palm
     Exploding Heart Technique.

And there I fell unconscious,
     And there I dream'd — Ah! He-she wiles! —
The hottest dream I ever dream'd
     On the cold floor's tiles:

I saw Kimber James and Longmint too,
     Lithe film stars, she-male were they all;
They cried —''La Belle Dame avec Pénis
     Has you in thrall!''

I saw their glossthick lips in the haze,
     horrid warning in knowing smiles,
I freed myself and fought for air,
     On the cold floor's tiles.

And this is why I linger here,
     Lubed and solo traveling?
My hair wither'd now with age,
     And no more bling.

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