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Poem

 Continued from Part 2 


Some kid is spraying Clearasil,
He wants to make his pimples nil;
He paints his breath with chlorophyll;
I’m in the dream of someone ill

I’m fleeing but I feel a goose,
Behind me grins a guy named Bruce,
His velvet miniskirt is puce
Why can’t I even call a truce?

There’s Billy Graham on a binge
His holy words do make me cringe;
If nonsense were a door with fringe
Then Billy Graham would be the hinge

I hear some Wallace words unkind
How has our race so soon declined?
His thoughts should be in sheit enshrined;
Thank god my eyes are color blind

The Beverly Hillbillys pace the street
The crowds are lying at their feet
While Petticoat Junction joins the fleet
And Green Acres makes it complete

I guess I know that something’s wrong
I haven’t yet met old King Kong,
They say ‘he went back to Hong Kong
For that is where he do belong’

Now I’m pausing in the gloom
And watch the reruns they exhume
They still do stink, I smell the fume;
To run away I must resume

Here comes Mitch, he’s singing songs
While Lawrence Welk, he beats the gongs;
I need to buy some racing thongs,
Instead they sell me three Ding Dongs

Behind me now there grows a tree
While Howdy Doody bends his knee;
I haven’t lost my sanity,
I’m merely tuned to Channel Three

 End

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