slant six runaway fiberglass mobile

my remote control mind and spider web heart
pacify the colors of translated musings and
perpetrates art from the blood of lemmings
but I can’t remember the last time my train left the station
or if in fact it ever arrived at all
so I sit perched like a canary in a coffee shop
watching as the twits tweet incessantly about
must adjust my valves again
this damn brain won’t start
it just keeps turning over
trying to invent a spaceship
escape
though there is too much red tape for that really
what with oil companies and their spills and
all I have is this box fan motor anyway and
I rather dislike the smell of sidewinder missiles as they graze upon this plywood hull
they could have just used a pellet gun
the pot whistles powerful it must be time for ramen and
a wonderful in flight meal it is
I do hope this cellophane can hold out the vacuum
more and more this universe seems a complete waste of space
dead and cold like the desert at night and just as breathable
is there a lake here that you can swim in?
ain’t nothing out here but the one damn dust bowl of a river
just had to go and concrete it in
dam it up into one of those yuppy fuck fake lakes
all green and stagnant and foul and unable to be swum
I say tear down the concrete rip out the docks and just let the bastard run the way it used to
and fuck it let the kids swim in it
it’s just a salty river and that is what rivers are for in the summer heat
and fuck who has the most money that will pay to get his yacht back in here
he can afford to move so he should head for deeper water
for now the place is filled with wildlife again
where will they go when you refill this ugly triple quadruple olympic sized cesspool
even half bastardized nature is better than a complete corporate swindle of a fake
I guess this desert furlough was not what that clinically depressed ship’s councilor had in mind
I have to mind where I land
those ocean planets wreck havoc on the cellophane almost as badly as this sandstorm and
besides there just is no beaches
but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna hitch up my headcase and skitch another comet just to breath
some fresh air again in another 40 years
another sun
another strange planet
another society to be scorned by
genesis was right
it ain’t no fun being an illegal alien

Comments

  1. wrote this one when tempe town lake emptied out...

    think i liked it better that way

    ReplyDelete
  2. I really like this man. I know exactly how that feels, well sort of.
    The beaches are north, the mexicans are south, the cops are underpaid, and the yuppies are all bankrupt, we win again, so fear not dear stranded traveler, for there will be a time when I come for you, be ready, stay ready, and Soon the tiny universe we crave shall come once again into existance, and we shall live the rest of our days in our handmade peace.

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