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I once saw Bo Diddley

at the fair, in Memphis;

he played “Mona” and “Gunslinger”

and “Who Do You Love”.

I went with Dan,

my boyfriend back then.

Dan was a deejay,

we had backstage passes;

we talked to Bo Diddley,

Dan shook his hand

and he whispered to me,

I dare ya to kiss him.

And I did.

I kissed Bo Diddley.

I kissed him right on his big sweaty cheek

and one time

we were down in the Quarter.

In New Orleans,

and we saw Weird Al Yankovic;

Dan said, look,

that’s Weird Al Yankovic.

I looked, and it was.

Dan said, kiss him;

I dare ya to kiss him.

I said, no,

and Dan made sounds like a chicken.

So I kissed him,

right on his white, pasty cheek

and one time Dan and I

went to the beach,

and we met a guy who caught a sea urchin.

I eat them, he said,

we said, how do you cook them.

I don’t, he told us,

and he sliced off a piece;

he ate it.

He offered us some,

and Dan looked at me;

I don’t hear much of Weird Al anymore,

Bo Diddley’s gone,

raw sea urchin’s awful,

in case that’s not clear

and Dan,

who made sounds like a chicken,

Dan drank himself to an early grave.

Me, I’m still kicking.

I kissed perfect strangers

and me,

I’m still here.

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