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.