Sunday, May 01, 2005
For Love
And so I digress,
But a funny thing happened to me on the way home
Midway this way of life we're bound upon,
And all that.
I was visiting a toyshop that I'd been to in my youth
When I observed that the basement had been replaced
By a display of modern toys that had replaced
The ones that I knew in my youth,
Over the entrance to the basement.
It was then that an array of CIA men
Emerged from behind the display,
Explaining that this was their secret base
And would I kindly come with them.
They said that since I had discovered them I would have to be held as a terrorist suspect
And then they tortured me to make me confess
And threatened me with "Egyptian Penis Torture"(tm).
And so I made an observation that
It felt like an entire age
Had died and decayed,
And that the innocence of my boyhood had been lost along the way.
And so they stripped me naked,
And put me in a dark, dank cell.
And one day I escaped,
And to my surprise found the building I was in was my old workplace,
And that there was another entrance to the base
That came out under my old workplace,
And that really this conspiracy had been going on around my ears all the time.
And they had sacked all of the old employees
And changed the name
And there it was that I found my master,
Still living inside of the work place,
Hiding in a cupboard
(For he was very small),
"Go away!", said he, "for this is my hiding place!"
But as he closed the door I put my foot in
And stepped inside.
Hours later I found myself running along naked
Past a bus full of schoolchildren
When I took a wrong turn and found myself lost in the town that I grew up in
For several hours.
"You can see my old primary school from here!"
I exclaimed.
But a funny thing happened to me on the way home
Midway this way of life we're bound upon,
And all that.
I was visiting a toyshop that I'd been to in my youth
When I observed that the basement had been replaced
By a display of modern toys that had replaced
The ones that I knew in my youth,
Over the entrance to the basement.
It was then that an array of CIA men
Emerged from behind the display,
Explaining that this was their secret base
And would I kindly come with them.
They said that since I had discovered them I would have to be held as a terrorist suspect
And then they tortured me to make me confess
And threatened me with "Egyptian Penis Torture"(tm).
And so I made an observation that
It felt like an entire age
Had died and decayed,
And that the innocence of my boyhood had been lost along the way.
And so they stripped me naked,
And put me in a dark, dank cell.
And one day I escaped,
And to my surprise found the building I was in was my old workplace,
And that there was another entrance to the base
That came out under my old workplace,
And that really this conspiracy had been going on around my ears all the time.
And they had sacked all of the old employees
And changed the name
And there it was that I found my master,
Still living inside of the work place,
Hiding in a cupboard
(For he was very small),
"Go away!", said he, "for this is my hiding place!"
But as he closed the door I put my foot in
And stepped inside.
Hours later I found myself running along naked
Past a bus full of schoolchildren
When I took a wrong turn and found myself lost in the town that I grew up in
For several hours.
"You can see my old primary school from here!"
I exclaimed.
# posted by Blatherard Osmo : 7:44 AM
Comments:
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This was my first attempt at writing a poem. I know that people think great artists have some kind of plan for a coherant artistic vision right from the start, but this is wrong. David Lynch made a movie called Six Figures Getting Sick. Most people's early work is just cobblers. Being an "artist" means you make it up as you go along, people!
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