10-07-2016, 12:23 PM
Whitman Parody
Song of a sarcastic jackass-- from field of weeds
What I see is also what you see:
Our atoms are equal,
the grass brushes out bare soles,
and the wind embraces us all.
The energy of nature!
The great miasma which unfolds the cosmos.
The pulsating pall of doom,
The pormanteau - smog.
What I see is also what you see, and I see the sun
exploding over a field of weeds.
The asphixiated spears which crumble beneath my new shoed feet, my sideways glance.
Warble now for end day times.
Sit on the bus as the loudspeaker tells you not to get up, and wait for the boom,
when the motor bursts,
and conflagrations blend in the heat waves on a hot, summer day.
Song of a sarcastic jackass-- from field of weeds
What I see is also what you see:
Our atoms are equal,
the grass brushes out bare soles,
and the wind embraces us all.
The energy of nature!
The great miasma which unfolds the cosmos.
The pulsating pall of doom,
The pormanteau - smog.
What I see is also what you see, and I see the sun
exploding over a field of weeds.
The asphixiated spears which crumble beneath my new shoed feet, my sideways glance.
Warble now for end day times.
Sit on the bus as the loudspeaker tells you not to get up, and wait for the boom,
when the motor bursts,
and conflagrations blend in the heat waves on a hot, summer day.