Sunday, August 09, 2009


The threshold was virtually tangible
As the aura of the action
A beacon beckoning attraction
Spiced the night air so frangible
Drawing awe from all those who saw
What they were told/wanted to see saw
A martyr speaking words quite hangible
About love and the greedy to those who have not
Promising a hybrid car in every lot
Band-aid on harm to nature grown gangible
Dopes the gap in the myth for now
But Monsanto has new fields to plow
Helping civilized gangs be more fangible
Chewing up earth like they’re fighting
Offering up their necks for the biting
For the masters, bending over, ever so bangible

They shan’t have my ass

I grow my own food
In an ancient car hood
And a barrel that used to hold oil
A tangerine tree
And six chickens for me
And a hammock treating me royal
A babbling brook
The cat naps in my nook
I seem active minus the toil
Sir David’s camera speeds up the plants
As in my slowed down garden gazing trance
When they too do seem to so actively dance

As in its time this myth too shall pass
While all its dupes remain quite harangible
Mister Natural - R. Crumb

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