Rent's Due

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   The Disney Riots  

 

 

              Pirates decorate the Deacon’s Christmas window. It is a season herded into a season

     as Goofy smokes one last Craven A and hits the funway. “One Last Smoky Autumn” plays

     and through the animated moraine Goofy walks toward home. And Hester.

 

            He is carrying his famous furrier’s knife & his pastry hooks & his bread rifle—

     up the laughing grassy knoll & into one more Mickey Lecture on the patio.

     Who is barking & who is squeaking & who is quacking at the moon? Not I.

 

           There are holograms of swamp pigeons pecking at a gas-suit

     and at amphetamine-laced prom gown. Then there are the CyberPicts

     hiding within the beamed shadows of the partially-completed Pict Galaxy.

 

          And Mombo Manta hides Arthur’s udder balm in the midge-nest

     as Mickey’s private sun becomes a midge-nest and is left behind

     to bake our solemn dogskin into ashtrays for the kids.

 

          The Visitors must wear reflective pants to walk up the laughing grassy knoll

     past the Jabbering Rose Trestle & into one more Mickey Lecture on the patio.

     Riflestocks & rum. Riflestocks & rum. Riflestocks & rum.

 

          Meanwhile—Donald’s chafed, his senses are a fowling-piece

     squeezing out tinny symphonies into the tinny Matterhorn’s

     cone of neurotic sparrows. The Reticent Rat is drunk upon witch hazel & vaseline.

 

          There is a wolf in the bookroom and Pluto knows his name.

     Goofy has run off to meet Whitey the Cop.

     He is carrying his famous furrier’s knife.

 

          Beauty’s cousin Bustle steps up with a cypress cricket bat

     & her riveted chrome & cypress sniffing guard dog.

     Come on down from that tree, you little sugared devil.

 

          Show’s over, Smoky Stover. Go and mop up after the Visitors.

     Scrub down smooth and lock away the Muppet Clydesdales.

     Goofy has run off to meet Whitey the Cop.

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