Felliniesque
odd ain’t it how the funniest stuff
in life is free like faces and feet or
Federico Fellini’s 8 ½ that falls
one reel short of eternity and how
we burn to pork every phantom
that whispers in our ears before we
turn into pumpkins there’s a woman
who sits on a rock pretending she’s
a mermaid fishing for a sailor if that
ain’t a feat of audacity then the four
horsemen of the apocalypse cannot
properly be thought of as futuristic
cowboys who wouldn’t frolic in the foam
and fury of the life force if they only knew
they were alive do you suppose Fellini
had as much fun as Zorba the Greek
maybe he should have grown a phantas-
magorical moustache and flown through
Rome on a dog it’s the Mediterranean air
that affords those jokers gills and tails
and horns have the good old days of barefoot
grape stomping gone the way of guzzling
any numbnuts that thinks he can circum-
navigate reality with his shoes on should
go fish Magellan out of whatever sea he’s
floating in and listen to him carp and cry
about the ingenuity of natives so when in
Las Vegas do as the Egyptians do fill
every pocket with emptiness then when
dice roll and banks break and the heart
still aches for a piece of neon ass the desert
can cough up grains of sand the spittin’
image of Cleopatra’s overworked underpaid
navel
Mickey HaHa Mahan, after 30 years behind the wheel of a transit bus, has hung up his nametag. These days, he hangs in the art/music/writing studio in the boathouse he shares with 3 frisky females: wife Deb “Red Lily” Thorna; Pomahuahua princess Phoebe du Soleil; and Pomeranian puffball Clair de Lune. It’s all licks, kicks and tricks! More: Instagram @sevenseasoftheheart