Thursday, February 22, 2018

The Wild Wild West

A typewriter fell in my lap, bye God, it's a computer.
I could’ve sworn it was a typewriter just yesterday.
Laptops, Googles, Ipads, and Galaxies.
Flying liberals fighting at a drugstore, everyone duck-duck-goose, she's got a gun.
Conservatives eating with Russians.
Indians and cowboys, blacks and whites, bullets flying everywhere.
Tweets and eagles fighting in a white house.
Black Panthers fighting with African hippos, oh my, Mickey and Minnie too.
Naked women in 3D.
Is that guy a Mexican Jew?
Gays and Lesbians jumping through rainbows, midgets dancing in the street, somebody check the safe.
Muslims and Christians behind bars with tattoo artist screaming rape.
Smoke at a weed factory. Who knew?
Women with red hair and pink pajama paints too.
Jumping Jezebels on  public radio.
Jesus on B.E.T and in the Rolling Stones.
Lawsuits all over a poem and a poet with a broken pencil on the kitchen table.
The bank in the safe, the safe in the bank, no reserves for the robber, he's shooting blanks.
Teens on drugs and pervy neighbors peeking through little Suzie's window.
Guns in school, Guns in church, Guns in bed, Guns and roses.
Presidents with golf balls dancing in their heads.
A mixture, a reservation, sober people escorting drunks.
Ships in port, passing out condoms to spies.
Oh boy, what a Jubilee.
What's on the next channel, I hope I don't go blind.
I just remembered, did you pay my fine?
Drug infested stars, children speaking adult language.
Boxing matches in old churches.
Little furry dogs with headbands on.
Chickens running loose at the zoo.
Tigers in Vegas, bye George, there's hookers too.
Buses, and sleighs filled with starving children on black Friday.
A king drinking at a dirty fountain.
Presidents dead in the streets, doctors wearing white sheets.
Working nine to five in the land of the free.
Rappers, Barbies, Dick and Jane.
Anonymous, does anyone know my name.
Divas, peasants, and common people, jay walking on busy streets.
Ashes in irons and old folk tied to hospital beds made with high tech remotes.
Houses on the open market some of them sold.
Sports players, some of them bold.
Smile for the camera, are you talking to yourself?
Is that you on the tube, cleaning up blood in the snow?
Is that you on the tube, punching that girl like dough?
Can anyone comprehend?
Lawyers with empty stomachs, judges with wooden teeth.
I think I've lost my marbles, maybe I should head east.
Wigs and cotton, sea to shinning sea.
Breakfast in bed on the last day of the week.
There's something about the wildness that makes me assume everything is free.
Buy; sell; solicitors on the phone.
I walk outside but no one's home.
Wall Street with a corner store. 
Maybe my medicine will keep me sane.
Oh boy, I forgot my name.
The woman's hockey team beat Canada.
The paperboy dropped out of school.
A nun trying to hold on to the golden rule.
Different people everywhere, I must be lost.
How much does that penny cost?
I then wake up from my dream getting arrested by the cops.
They take me in and explain my rights.
I've woke up in the West, the Wild Wild West, butt-naked flying a kite.
Two professors dressed like hippies pass me a test.
"What a nasty world we live in," she has tattooed on her chest.
I'll try and do my best, wait, on second thought, maybe I should rest.
I promise I won't ask the fast-food girl for anything fresh.
Wake me up when it's over.
I've lost my mind.
Hold up, I think I'll be fine.
Crazy, no, try wild.
Hey, get that camera out of here!

No comments:

Post a Comment