Author Information
Beloved
A hydrogen bomb had gone off on the streets of New York.
We were all in the throes of a world depression
That wouldn't lift, whether we
Cut taxes to nothing or bailed out God.
The cities were widswept with winos and unemployed teachers,
And the bankers were now grocery store clerks.
And every team on the sports page was losing.
No one could find a man or woman courageous enough
To sink the final shot in any sport.
Another king had been shot and killed somewhere near Czechoslovakia.
The cockroaches had taken Disneyland.
America was at war with China and
The North Koreans were threatening a second strike,
While the Nazi party was makeing major gains in Europe
And marching, always marching...
The newscasters were playing "pop goes the weasel"
On the evening broadcast.
Someone had released Charles Manson from his cage.
Everywhere you looked the race wars of the prisons
Were spilling out onto the streets,
And all the dogs had gone rabid.
Hell was just a clicking of the clock away and
Climbing, bubbling over from the sewers
Into the water supply. And to top it off
The bee's had died, so all the flowers died along with them.
And everyone was headed toward divorce. And
The royal family had been arrested for tax evasion. And
The cars stalled out and piled up on the I-70 freeway,
All the way from one coast to the next.
And the vineyards, once so priceless, had turned to deserts.
And prohibition had returned, so no one
Could even get a drink...
The best of Hollywood was now turgid or strarving
And suffering from either syphilis or anorexia.
And the third world had risen up in my own hometown
So that there were so many starving people they couldn't feed them all.
And the sex fiends had descended on the streets
Like a terrorist attack, and no one, man woman or child was safe
anymore.
And the cancer had spread to the brain.
And the radio, God the radio was dying with macabre blues.
All this and more on a Tuesday in mental hell, where
Every moment of it was my fault, my fault...
Ideas of reference again.
And a lot more shit than sunshine.
And the world was closing in with siren and knife,
Lightning, fire, gun and guillotine...
And I hung a little picture of a pin-up girl on my wall.
