Hud did come home to Manhattas as filmed…

Hud was the name of a movie filmed in the “swinging” sixties, which were also sweaty, stinking of rich garbage, sixties, wherein many a pilgrim, shipping in from Texas, seeking financial backing for a shellacking, under a big star’s name, to proclaim,

Down in Texas, a sixties, a “swinging titties” sixties, contemporary stark reminder, to “where is the beef”, good question, if you need some relief, to munch on a burger, before a film theater, if theater is the right name, for the showing of celluloid, not flesh, “in the flesh”, but flickering, beef a perfect flesh, yet why we eat it…

We can eat it rare, medium rare, well done, or burnt at the stake crisp, “swinging titties” “where is the beef”, serve the swinging titty as a milk shake, serve the sausage as well done, serving the poon dark side of the moon, looking down from the heaven, on curds and whey,

Paul Newman, guns not a’blazin, homeboy glib, a gibbet Arizona razor — no guns, but a good barroom brawl, fists a clatter, the home fires simmer, beans, coffee and pinto, the ranch going bust, for a quarantine, Ghislaine, speaks it plain, “This is Dodge, a bit dodgy, a reliable car, Dodge City Kansas, a big steer,

Abraham Lincoln, big bulging chop, reaching down to the axe (not the axis of evil) his love a revival:

He did his lessons on a charred sacred Bible, the back of a spawn, the Rig Veda to dawn, the early light, fast friends don’t cut off no balls; fast Persian flanks, no brawn. Kansas not far from Nebraska, growing what crops, we spin or pivot, go choc-a-bloc. If you go to McDonald’s, you get yourself crap (even if you sing Old McDonald’s Farm– which a chant, should shun a face plant).

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