88 lines about 44 guys

Jonah was a Catholic guy, he held out 'til the bitter end.
Mario was a differnet type, he's the was one who put it in.
Anthony was a bi guy and I was afraid of a guy like that.
Warren painted pictures sitting down like the Buddah sat.

Reno was an aimless guy, a geographic memory.
Corey was a Jesus freak, he liked that kind of misery.
Monty had a special way of turning sex into a song.
Anderson who couldn't sing, kept the beat and kept it strong.

Zulu was an archetype, the voodoo king, the king of rap.
John thought men were second best to masturbating in the bath.
Steven was an athiest, he really had that gift of gab.
Colin's point of view was this, "Take whatever you can grab."

Seattle was another guy who left his mark upon the map.
Kevin liked to tie me up and left me hanging by a strap.
Jason had this night club walk that made grown men feel underage.
Mister Ian who had a son said, "I must go." but finally stayed.

Goerge, the last taboo was shattered by his tongue one night.
Michael brought the taboo back and held it up for the light.
Micky who knew no shame, was never ever satifisied.
Julian came and went so fast, he didn't even say goodbye.

Well, Ronald had a house in Venice, lived on brown rice and cocaine.
Patrick had a house in Houston, shot cough syrup in his veins.
Larry thought his life was empty, filled it up with alcohol.
Clinton was much too pretty, he didn't do that shit at all.
Uh uh, not Clinton.

Paul thought love was simple, turn it on and turn it off.
Jean-Claude was complicated, like some French film maker's plot.
Jimmy was the perfect gentleman, always kept his unddies straight.
Jack was a rich punk rocker, silver spoon and a paper plate.

Saul was a modern dancer, lean pristine transparancy.
Jack wrote bad poetry, in a crazy kind of urgency.
Tony, turkish, liked to fuck while wearing leather boots.
Bill's strange obession was for certain vegetables and fruit.

Rowen was an artist's son, the deeper image shook him up.
J.D.'s mother left her father, took his money and his truck.
Billy Ray had no such problems, perfect Norman Rockwell home.
Nathan sixteen, had a G.E.D., left his parents, lived alone.
Bobby joined a new wave band and changed his name to Bobby-Socks.
Enrique who played guitar, he sang songs about whales and cops.
Terry didn't give a shit, was just a nihilist.
Robbie was much more my style, he wrote songs just like this.
Jerry went forty days drinking nothing but Perrier.
Dennis drove his Chevorlet into the San Francisco Bay.
Jamie came from Ohio, he's a Scientologist.
Aaron, here's a kiss, I chose you to end this list.

88 lines about 44 guys...