by Michael Wentworth
The tooth fairy and the Easter bunny
Sat drinking one night in a bar When Santa Claus walked in with a swagger Already drunk and disorderly and itching for a fight After Snow White had given him shit Because she had been with Mowgli again And Casper the barman Had to raise his voice to calm things down As Jesus walked in with Goldilocks on his arm. Outside the dwarves were on their knees And the giants with their swords held high Were mowing them down left and right While the sun and the moon were having high tea And the king was fucking the queen’s daughter Behind the barn as the cows looked on disapprovingly Asking each other what had become of the world When even the raindrops were falling skyward. When I grow up in a million years I’d still want to be an ophthalmologist at night And during the day I’ll be a conjuror Charging all the near-sighted followers exorbitant sums To open their eyes so that they can see That all the hocus-pocus that they claim to believe Is what keeps them blind and dumb like animals on a farm Each in its own pen in seeming harmony.
Sat drinking one night in a bar When Santa Claus walked in with a swagger Already drunk and disorderly and itching for a fight After Snow White had given him shit Because she had been with Mowgli again And Casper the barman Had to raise his voice to calm things down As Jesus walked in with Goldilocks on his arm. Outside the dwarves were on their knees And the giants with their swords held high Were mowing them down left and right While the sun and the moon were having high tea And the king was fucking the queen’s daughter Behind the barn as the cows looked on disapprovingly Asking each other what had become of the world When even the raindrops were falling skyward. When I grow up in a million years I’d still want to be an ophthalmologist at night And during the day I’ll be a conjuror Charging all the near-sighted followers exorbitant sums To open their eyes so that they can see That all the hocus-pocus that they claim to believe Is what keeps them blind and dumb like animals on a farm Each in its own pen in seeming harmony.
From:
'A Love Letter for the Epoch' published by khoi gxam, South Africa
Copyright ©:
Mikey D Wentworth
Last updated July 14, 2015