listening to Cream

i asked her to remove her bra
it was the loveliest thing i ever saw
peaches and cream and two points of light:
we could have partied into the night
dancing the floor playing The Who!
she asked if there was something i'd rather do
and at first i didn't have a clue.
well, i said, maybe listening to Cream,
after all, if this was only a dream
perhaps the two of us could become a tag team
wrestling crazies and angel-headed fuckers
who pretend to be hipsters and long haul truckers:
oh hell, we'll drive our magic bus down the steepest street
stopping only when our holy lips meet,
banging on kettle drums like a Meat Loaf bun,
flying like a Bat Out of Hell singing Here Comes the Sun!
listening to Cream
is more than it might seem.