I've heard of all the legends told;
beneath the clay and desert dust
of California, there's still gold
but plastic's hidden in each bust
of idols on the silver screen
who dine on cheese from happy cows
that dance while eating Lean Cuisine
then curtsey as they take their bows.
Our Summer-fires enhance the glow
of Sunset. Hillside homes (post-rains)
glide down on liquefacient flow--
come Fall, we pick through what remains.
Our skies are relatively clear--
pollution's but a state of mind.
God's been restrained and can't appear
beyond the fence where He's confined.
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I have similar thoughts about where I live, though we're not even out of nappies compared to the ultra-plasticity of LA
Still, the boobs are of fantastic proportions!
The third stanza brings things crashing (or sliding) back to earth quite brilliantly though, and the last is quite poignant -- so this little poem's got everything a satire should.
It could be worse
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PS. Terrific to see you back, Sid!
It could be worse
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they look good till they turn round and you see two basketballs in their bikini top
and how do they get their legs so longgggggggggggggggg.
and yeah. it is good to see ya.
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I like it. It is quirky.
I learned a new word to-day 'liquefacient' - I do remember an old poem with a similar word 'liquefaction' something like 'the liquefaction of her clothes'...damn, that's so annoying..wish I could remember what the damn poem is. Was it some-one called Julia? Help.
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Funny how out of place 'real' people look and feel in southern CA - but there's still a lot of them. Makin me smile, Sid!
PS. If you can, try your hand at giving some of the others a bit of feedback. If you already have, thanks, can you do some more?
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An interesting look at Cali. I enjoyed the read.
