Thoughts, Out of My Head
a bike ride on the Stanford Campus
at the Rodin exhibit
Photo by Jerry Brick
contemplate the Gates of Hell should not be taken lightly.
The bike trails there are all uphill,
You try to fix a flat, but still
You pump, and tires never fill.
The streets in every neighborhood are crowded and unsightly.
And yet, I would prefer to pass through portals so untried—
With yellow jacket frayed and
The gravel roads
of nail and thorn
puncture tires badly worn—
Because it is with friends like you I’d always want to ride.
* * *
They say the climate’s
they haven’t got a clue.
So, let the polar icecap melt; there’s nothing we can do.
Just drive your Hummer where you please no matter what they tell us.
There’s lots of oil in the ground the Arabs want to sell us.
Who cares about the debt
we have? I’m
not afraid to say it.
really don’t expect to be the one who has to pay it.
Taxes are for other guys who can’t get out of payin’.
No one needs the government—you hear what I am sayin’?
Crime is running rampant—that was in the news today.
But when we all start
packin’ guns, we’ll get along okay.
So this is how I see it, and I’ll say it with a smile:
We don't need to go to Egypt, we're already in Denial.