The Rambler
This is what happens when I go off
And crash through your windows like I’m Microsoft
I ramble on subjects unrelated
And other things otherwise un-debated
I search up and down like investigators
On escalators, trapped in elevators
Outcasted by the delegators
That let them run loose with the regulators
So mount up and answer this
Why are we so cancerous?
We spread out, seek, and we destroy
And destroy, and destroy
In Mumbai, Gaza, and Detroit
Start your engines and rev to this
Off a cliff so perilous
Not even a terrorist would make the time
To check a list, then blow it up
And show it off as something so insidious
That no broker that trades a joke
Or joker that makes you broke
Could miss the chance to piss their pants
At a crime so hideous
And tell me how can they take
The few scraps that are on the plate
Knowing well that you can’t pay
So they raise the interest rate
And you, too, haven’t found what you’re looking for
And you two can’t feed who you’re cooking for
Plus four equals an odd sixteen
Candles singe night air pristine
Punch random numbers on calculators
They’re jerking you around like masturbators
This is what happens when I go off
And crash through your windows like I’m Microsoft
I ramble on subjects unrelated
And other things otherwise un-debated
poem by P.R. Prosper
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
