The Thomas Salto.
Timmy Straw.
Fonograf Editions.
978-0578358543
Timothy Liu Ruminates on Timmy Straw’s The Thomas Salto in Five Short Lyrics
READ MY LIPS
This blockbuster
debut is so far
down the God hole
it’s like watching
the Gipper
riding bareback
on an X-Wing
to the Death Star’s
anal fissure
at its Hollywood
conclusion—
*
UNTIL NOW
Shall we try
to stick
this landing
without blurbs
on the jacket
but splattered
anyways
across a dark web
page sort of
like having your
Chicken Kyiv
and eating it too
in Putin’s Kremlin
is something
said no one ever—
*
HOLY MOLY!
An overnight sensation
more private
than any dream that will
not repeat
no matter how much
money you’ve got
in the bank—talk about
pedophile clickbait
disposable as the thing
we’re not going to
talk about this year
however unintended
the consequences are—
mommies grooming
kidfluencers on X
while local library sales
continue to plummet—
unmarked second-hand
Bibles all ten bucks
because the gender-
neutral worker who works
there didn’t want to
mar them (they said!)
out of mere respect.
*
OUR LOVE’S IN JEOPARDY, BABY
is “an exclamation
of surprise” that dates
from at least 1982—
most likely “a minced
oath or a cleaned-
up version of a taboo
phrase” like Holy Fucking
Moses with flaming
cherries on top—
*
ANOTHER WET DREAM
I awoke to bite marks
in my bookmark left
by a cat who strayed
beneath the covers
with great piquancy
but gentler than that—
little knowing winks
some knew would get
to me given enough
time—a punched
ticket for a train there
was no way I could
ever reuse on the way
back from a place
I had already come.
