Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

A Terrible Poem About Naked Pole Guy

What a specific rando you were that day,
Naked Pole Guy.

No pants.
Pole dance.
Fame has been earned with far less coin.

Were you with friends?
Did you go it alone?
An isolated incident,
Or were you known for nudity?
(Every group has one.)

Did you get a splinter in your dick?

The guy
With the umbrella in Dealey Plaza,
Kissing the nurse in Times Square,
Who never said his name was D.B. Cooper,
And you.

There are levels to mitzvah–
(Jews enjoy lists)
–the highest form leaves no signature.

To forfeit the naming rights,
Naked Pole Guy:
That is the highest form of mitzvah, and
Naked Pole Guy,
On that day your form was the highest.

I heard you were still in Oregon;
You owned a borax mine,
And many head of cattle.
The internet says you’re abroad:
Ibiza,
Goa,
Warsaw.
Scuttlebutt has you in Florida;
That sounds right.

May the sun only stroke you,
And gravity not bother.
May your dick not get splintered,
And don’t ever come down.

3 Comments

  1. Reputedly, Naked Pole Guy is now a real estate agent, but that’s metrically uneven (long-short-short-short) and hard to rhyme

  2. “the highest form leaves no signature”

    Like a hood ornament when I was a kid, I’d love to steal this. Alas, I’d have nowhere to put it.

  3. Luther Von Baconson

    August 28, 2016 at 1:38 pm

    love it.

    May the sun only stroke you,
    And gravity not bother.
    May your dick not get splintered,
    And don’t ever come down.

    last line a better choice than: “…….and stay sleek as an Otter.”

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