Though we cannot make our sun stand still, yet we will make him run.
Blue, resist the urge to use facebook. You can do it. Good luck.
Cats and dogs can be friends. So can cowboys and indians. So can we.
Why try to be the best when there's no hierarchy in heaven?

Sunday, October 26, 2014

If You Were . . . a Car


If you were a car, what kind of car would you be?
Would you be a Cadillac, your wings all pink n' pretty
Like Molly, remember, when she was having fun
Or would you be the perfect car to steal when we're on the run?
There you are — as super-duper-stretched as they come,
a home on the road for them party girls and then some:
"Hello limousine! Now, what'cha got cookin'?
We all can tell that you're mighty good-looking!"
Would that be you, out of everybody's league,
Or would you be like me — a set of wheels called Fatigue?
Would you be a Batmobile, a Catmobile, a Funky Monkey Ratmobile
"Hi, Mary, check this out, a ratty greased lightning made out of stainless steel!"
And would you have a sixth gear or maybe even eight or ten?
Would you be a babe magnet or specialized in men?
Would you like me (¡hola!) and would I like you too?
Would I like you more than my blue suede shoe,
Stepping on it, too, and you know what it means
Would you run on water or maybe soy beans?
Would you protect the President or, you know, just the Pope?
Do we get to tow you with a chunky big rope?
Would you be politically tight—so green some Hulk wants you tonight
Or would you roar and make us tremble and experience delight?
Tell me 'bout your backseat color, your cardelicious style,
Tell me about the way you drive around for only just a while:
A mile here, a mile there . . . I bet you'd be low-maintenance too.
Tell me, what kind of car are you?

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P.S. If I were a car, I wouldn't get very far . . .
I'd be one of those collectibles you keep locked in a jar.