Bi-Polar at Castle Tam---A series of Observations

Louis

Flipped cars in Oakland
buy for cheap, sell for bank
surf on the flow of the free-market
Where the best rise to the top like gold flakes on oil---
Retirement Rolex exists in the jungle
---clasp the chalice
Where exchange rates further the profits---
Rubenesque like a Chinese bodhisattva on a hefted four-post
works here, sitting pretty---
while others pass through
---his harem

Fat-ass Capitalist---
roll over his dick must encourage skin-staph
choked pennies out of the poor of Oakland
Corrupt as a Chinese Opium Importer
---quasi-success---
only enough to flaunt around here
Leers over the faded front desk at each little girl who rolls through
---tries to use his quasi-math to calculate his chances ---
“Good enough for a vacation-fuck” --is the best the girls can think
and he flips through them quick like porno playing cards

Father & Son

Close as bffls even at maturity
One’s royal wisdom encouraging softly,
The other accepting with veneration
---they make food together
Respect & mutual love mutually grace
---we’ll show the world together, son
I will make the world proud of our name, papa---

Co-dependant pathetics
son ducking like a beaten whore 
Father sniping and manipulating 
i don’ know sonnnnnn….
Svengali---
---their food tastes like over-salted shit
the son should stab himself free
of this well-worded monster
But can’t---
The father has castrated his progeny’s instincts
---so that daddy sits satisfied
The arbiter of limited provisions


Father of the Clique

70, with the toned-over body of a college sprinter
Goin to church-he joshes somberly as he moves to the weights
Introduces himself with respectful handshakes---
(he’s been here before The Castle was)
Has more chance with the students then the others---
---but declines and instead details his hobbies under a jeweler’s glass;
sits on top of the crew with ankles crossed over thighs---
over-ruling the kiddish workers
---The real OG

You think you’re big here?
The smog of this town has mummified you to pressed dust
small man---
Talk about your life before your escape to the third-world
and cast your eyes downwards---
Body is all you got
after puffing cheeb through your later years
---Blow your blow with the kiddies
and try to look at your God without blinking.