The Free-Thinkers Association

Dishonest eternities and idiot fortunes
Coupled with couplets blown out of proportion
Are loaded into caskets, then a U-haul van
As fragments of humankind fall on Afghanistan
Leeches, bleached and beseeched, cling to my wife
As blackened blood pours up the drain of my life
The cracked and salty lips of the oceanic shore
Are crushed beneath the wishes of a heavenly door
Violent and virulent is the uncharted anguish
Its steely resolve is remarkably stainless
Napoleonic formations swell and raise the mast
As the prairie turtle of the race comes in last
The captain of the guard calls to the Virgin Mary
I put my hat on my arms because they’re trying to scare me
The cigarette salesman tells my mind it’s out of luck
And tired of running, it would rather walk amok
It hankers down and batters down the chorus calling “schwa”
As I abuse a pair of clueless ants and throw them to the maw
I jogged into the county fair and lifted up my shoe
“My soul is falling out,” I screamed ‘til I turned blue
The baker then mistook me for a berry from his patch
And threw me in the crust of the next pie from his batch
As planets passed and Miramax films played in my mind
I summoned reels of images of the life I left behind
Holding onto handelebars carved from granite blocks
I felt the wood beneath me splinter on the rocks
The future and the past climbed into the golden carriage
Tensely, with intensity, they conjugated their marriage
Mayonnaise soldiers played the funeral march
As the chimney sweep gently weeped, rather, wept upon the arch
The professor said I had to have a motif in this poem
So I pulled up my pants and the nurse had to send me home
To veer, or voire, to steer and saw at my hollowed bones--
"Qu'est-ce que tu as dit? I was on the telephone"
At last, the poet laureate cleared the eyes to his mind
And thinking he was free, he deigned to end his rhymes.