Benjibopper

First we go here
then we go there
like pinball gymnastics
it's fantastic
though spasmic
what we after?
which chapter
we on now?
While you were out preaching
and converting the Christians
into multicultural politicians
busted out of their own baptisms
introducing them to their own isms
and throwing their intolerance
out into the catechism
While I was out shooting hat-tricks
going for the cycle
You were on your cycle
in the heart of your cycle
with a backache
bladder baked
makin' pancakes
I was writing policy
redesigning electoral tendencies
redefining democracy
blinded by transparency
that the officials couldn't see
while trying to stop me
in the tornado
of NATO
NSA's quoting Plato
and Mao Tse Tsing
like singing
in the bath-tub
with an electric guitar and a fast-paced back-rub
with your cycle cycling in a cyclone
storms brewing for a shootout
like Capone
because we're stoned
and about to dethrone
the immovable object
of an unstoppable system
we're the current generation
and this is our time to shine
on home-made wine
as we whine
while we dine
the revolutionary dinner
in a coffee shop
grab a quick one to go
on our way to harvest crops
we take a brief pause
for posterity in our journals
next thing it's menopause
and we just made colonel
so much to be done
so little time to say it
life is long
if you know how to play it
if you avoid the cars
play your guitar
run fast and run far
stay true stay hard
make work for the retards
and avoid the word FUBAR
so here we are
driving in our car
me reading the new part
it's a start
of what I hope will play every VCR
You're listening now as each intersection
marks a different section
of the story I'm dissecting
the mind I'm inspecting
and the ending you weren't expecting
Then it's off to the land of Authority
trying to make a vision for the whole City
and You're back helping the Pope
to help himself
by learning to share the Church's help
What would Jesus do?
How about Rachel Carson?
Would Mohammad support our litany of larson?
burning bridges behind us now
I'm afraid of raisons and you're afraid of cows
but it's full throttle on the road ahead
and I can only hope I remembered my head.

Labels: Poetry