Monday, August 8, 2016

"One Night in Bangkok" by Newamba Flamingo

No more popping pills

Here they’ve traded ulcers and commutes
for tiki temples and tire fire sunsets

Krung Thep
Soi Cowboys with shiny new teeth
HiSo(s) with two right hands of Terminal 21

Here we got all the latest trends in coconut oil colonoscopy

Here we have dreams of soapy massages,
Australian ass crack, and true arhats

Here Bangkok narrow streets
are water buffaloes in Issan

Bangkok BTS, feel the devil, hope it's a She
Bangkok BTS, bored to the Go Go
Bangkok BTS, levitate, levitate thee
Bangkok BTS, Here the dialect is a bar fine

Here there is no God
we seek the new Seth Warshavsky
or Marilyn Manson
maybe a recovering Mormon
or some other fallen star

Here there’s no God, but there’s bars
Oh the bars, they got Tequila shots, but no Tila

They got Tilaks and some smoking hot honeys

They got coyotes and horndogs
those crotch sniffers cold canvassing carpets

They got surgical masks and food stalls
spicy smells and papaya salads,
banana roti(s), emojis and part-time palm readers

They got
Laotian club kids
the only ones
who can truly relieve your resting bitch face

"Mmmm, Baht Baht!"

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, Baht Baht...“

Here there are fantasy cockroach leagues
Klong Toey caravans beckoning sunburn,
Saan phra poom purges of
youngsters playing badminton in Donald Trump masks

street corner dildo police publicly piss test the masses

Here there are 35 degrees of heavily veiled women

Here Colonel Vikorn has lookouts on the prowl for handys and Brexits

there are violent gangs of post-midnight ladyboys
plaguing Pattaya,
fucking up Dutch tourists, roughing their shit
Tuk Tuk taxi drivers on about Obamacare pre-ops
Tuk Tuk taxi drivers
planning on planting pipe bombs at Siam Paragon

(Mr. 303 voice) Listen man:
You want a blowjob at the massage parlor, a cunt punt, or a fist full of yaba?
(a twenty year stink in the Bangkok Hilton or twenty thousand farang Franklins, motherfucker!)

Yesterday’s Bangkok Post:
Seventy Two Twitter Users Protest Koh Pee Pee Midnight Screening of new Ghostbusters

a new Fat Joe, brass knuckles, and a high wai for the Walking ATM
lotus flower riots, cheap booze, cough syrup coups,
red shirts, re-used condoms and live ammunition shutdown options

(now let’s see what Owen Wilson has to say about that, shall we!)

Saturday Night, Nana Plaza:
Thunderstorm MILF, the short time queen,
silky brown skin
Cambodian butt cheeks encased chocolate thong lo
berserk it, work it, twerk it, bitch
90 Baht, 80 Baht, 70 Baht
Led Zeppelin, buttrock, and Britney Spears

Monday Night Karaoke:
This girl is poison

Tuesday Night:
Thunderstorm MILF in Sukhumvit, street-side
straight up grabbing random tourist man-ass

Make me wanna ask that slap attack monk
He who slap attacked that cracker tourist on a train:
“So why is it okay for a woman to just go up and grab a random dude’s ass? How is he any less violated?”

And the monk might or might not answer:
“Back in the Tsunami of 2004, there was a man peacefully walking down the beach alone as the first big wave was approaching the shore. People started yelling out to him, warning him, imploring him to flee to safety. The man looked over at them, confused, unsure as to why they were so panicked. Then suddenly the massive wave engulfed him.”

“Did a hooker just grab his ass prior to that?”

The Monk:

“I fail to see the correlation or logic.”

The monk:
“You seek logic. The wave does not.”


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