#asteroidcity
This talk of high noon,
Will it go away soon?
My, the talk on the moon,
See, it appears through your loom.
The colorful enigma
Full of mud a lot stigma
I’d say you should rid ya’
But I know you won’t bid, ha!
The picture bare comes out
While the ground dirt shouts
As the woman's ashes sprout
Do you get what it's really m‘bout?
Secluded to the bathtub and pills
The green dotted spaceman n’ thrills
And military uniform drills
Sure, most ain’t betting on those bills.
I’d say, “sure now I get it, this play here I mean.”
But seldom I let a thought flow a stream
And lies of smarts make me feel unclean
I’d rather pretend how deeply I’ve seen
Anderson writes like a fish out of water
How I wish that the dashes he wrote found me a tad smarter
In the yellowed remains of the playwrights a falter
Outburst of beeping n’ buzzing still can’t halt ‘er
He’d burn his hand on the reddening top
The bigger question, why’d he not try and stop
The overall story of the foggy gray plot
I’d let myself in, but I’d know my teeth’ll just rot
I real like color, I’d almost say I’d give it some love
Instead of a royal, gray manning n’ shove
If a riled up dove
Saw the green up above
Would it—nah, I think I know anyway.
Jan 25
Jan 25, 2026 at 6:55 PM UTC