Who rubbed the magic lamp

It takes a prancing Dracula

at the dentist’s with his mother

having his wisdom teeth removed

to pay for a circus act

performed by an erstwhile

tax attorney with a bald patch

on his head and the determination

to cohabit with a female,

preferably his own species

in the least dull way possible,

on a rocking boat, in the middle

of a conversation with a fish

out on the beach, soaking some sun

to cure its scaly skin whilst

love escapes the clutches of

justice and power in an effort

to corrupt all mankind with

its silliness, making a case

for a vending machine

bought off chor bazaar

to deliver on the promises

of a childhood tale unfolding

on the streets of Baghdad

with a Sultan misled by

an evil minister and a thief

who is still searching for a

magic lamp to remedy his

hungry nights fighting off

the gutter rats and princesses

who dream of a life

outside the boundaries of

her Sultan’s imagination

It takes three of these

and a bag of chips

for a good night’s sleep.

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