…From Otis Henry

Otis Henry bumfries the lillipad
Otis Henry mustard flys the munter hitch
Boo, Otis Henry. Your performance doesn’t meet my standards.
Otis Henry doth not want to pay the parking meter
So he shall pay the parking pentameter.
Wise choice, Otis Henry.
Wisdom.

* *

Otis Henry is a straight up gangster.
Everything Otis Henry does, he does gangsterized
Because he is such a straight up gangster.
When Otis Henry walks, he walks gangster.
Look at Otis Henry’s walk—
Oh Lord, it is too gangster!
When Otis Henry is hungry, he gangster eats.
Eating hard!
Ripping the celery from its stalk.
For that is what true gangsters eat.
Straight up gangster celery.
When Otis Henry drives a car—you guessed it:
Gangster.
How do gangsters drive cars, you ask?
Answer: just like Otis Henry.
Superduper gangster.
After washing his hands, Otis Henry straight up gangster dries his hands.
He dries his hands like a straight up gangster
On a gangster hand towel
Monogrammed with a G.
Cause everybody needs to know that this is a straight up gangster hand drying party
And Otis Henry
Is the original
Straight up gangster.
And when I say gangster
I mean gangster gangster ass gangster.
And when I say gangster gangster ass gangster.

I mean poet.

* *

Otis Henry brings upon the rains with the faint wave of his hand.
Wave, fainty hand.
And then, woosh!: raino raino bayno
Otis Henry is tired.
He should’ve napped earlier, but he did not.
Otis Henry thinks he’s still young.
Think you’re still young again, do ye OT-Y?
Who knows what Otis henry thinks—not even Otis Henry, that’s who.
Cause if he knows it then he doesn’t have to think it. Cause he knows it for sure. Get it?
Wave, fainty hand.
Rain, rainy rains.
This is what happens when Otis Henry misses his nap.
This is what it sounds like
When Otis Henry’s cry.
Tweet tweet tweet tweet.

* *

Otis Henry makes baked Alaska by actually baking Alaska.
Otis Henry runs marathons in 2 spans of his legs. When the news reporters call everyday and want to know Otis Henry’s secrets, instead he only gives them his secretes!
His gooey gooey secretes which he then gushes forth onto them through his receiver
Otis Henry does 4 thousand jumping jacks a day, but they are actually poem jumping jacking—meaning instead of merely physically performing the exercise, he writes its name 4 thousand times in a strict rhythm called “jackmeter” which I won’t attempt to explain now, because you just obviously don’t possess the intellectual capacities to comprehend such forms
Just look at you, you’re a slob
There’s cigarette burns in your shirt
When’s the last time you brushed your teeth
You smell like a stale vagina
Otis Henry, on the other hand, smells like the most fresh, vine-ripened vagina to ever spring from the loins of this confusing world we live in.
Otis Henry smokes actual trees because he’s mistaken figurative rap lyrics for instructions from the muse
Otis Henry never uses an ottoman
For his quadriceps muscles are so enduring he simply sits in a chair, lies back and raises his legs in front of him PRETENDING that an ottoman supports them
There’s no ottoman there, Otis Henry!
Why do you trick us so with your slight of foot! You had us all under the excruciating impression that your legs stayed stable upon an ottoman.
Chicanery!
Rest your supple thighs, man, lower your calves, what strain must there be upon your oh-so-poetic knees!
But Otis Henry rests not his thighs, and lowers not his calves
But, instead, bursts into flame, which is actually just poetry that looks like flame
Like those portraits that are actually composed of a million little portraits
That’s ok, children.
Rush not to the aid of Otis Henry as the poetry scorches him, as he’s consumed in confessionalism
And the rhymes of the Victorians
For he needs no extinguisher. He needs no guisher of extings. He needs only to flap his arms
Really really fast
To windmill his arms in repeating circuits like the refrains of villanelles
So fast that the poetry blaze
Submits and subsides to mere ash
At which Otis Henry exclaims
“I shalt caketh my face
In thine ash, o poetry conflagration,
To mourneth thy death
And grieve thy guishment
of exting.”
Which Otis Henry then proceedeth to do
Cause that how Otis Henry rolls
And that’s how nice of a nice guy he is.
He pays his respects—with interest
Even at deaths of fires
Of poetry
Who were only moments ago trying to kill him
I bet you don’t do that stuff, do you.
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
Go play with your friends, person who isn’t Otis Henry.
He’s got some serious dirging to do.

* *

Otis Henry listens to Christmas music in June because he is just that punctual
Otis Henry is so early to things that he arrives promptly to lunches with businessmen that have not even been born yet.
How dare the unborn businessman stand me up at our lunch date? He will probably arrive in 63 years when he will be 42, asking wasn’t I supposed to meet Otis Henry here today? Wasn’t this the place and time?
Well sure it is unborn business man if you’re satisfied arriving to appointments at the particular time you’re expected.
I, however, prefer to exceed your expectations.
Otis Henry had 6 best selling volumes before he had ever wrote poetry. Otis Henry often leaves your party before you’ve even sent his invitation.
When Otis Henry vacations in Bermuda, he sips daiquiris on the beach years before he packs or smacks, or plane tickets, or smane smickets.
And Otis Henry emerges from his maters sweet loins before she can meet a man to impregnate her, before she is even bornto her mother, or her mother’s mother
And this sudden materialization from no family background discourages Otis Henry,
For he has no one to celebrate Christmas with
This June.

* *