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Fido
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Hark! Mooncakes to eat
In the Great-Up-There...somewhere
Where the souless stop to greet
Each other, politely but rightly
Reminding each other of hairs
Yet split and bones yet picked
From their short and ample time
Sucking breaths of our precious air!
When all they could do was fret and stew
And raise whole hells of hullaballoo
About this and that and Hank's lost cat
And Mildred's guilded stinking Purse!
Curses loosed from tongues soothed
Only by wiggling cries of "Die, you, die!
It was my parking spot I say!
Give it me! It's mine all mine!... okay?"
Now on golden clouded lots marked
In sections: Romans, Luke, the works,
They park together but separate,
Separate but equal, no one's the worse,
All are happy to share what's there's
'Cause all is 'mine' and presumably
Better than theirs is.
But if I ever got out of this world alive
I'd steal every cycle and car and drive
The lot straight to hell to share
With those Heaven forgot the things
So golden but always behanded by
The havering hankering cantankering
Have-freakin-lots.
That is,
If I ever got out of this world alive.
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