Thursday, February 15, 2007

Epic Burger King poem and stuff

In line at Burger King
Before me, behind me, beautiful girls with credit-cards
Drop-down ceiling-tiles hide closed-circuit video-cameras
Want yellow plastic tables for my apartment
To re-create my first date
We'll read about terrorism and hamburgers
Then you'll finger me until I fall asleep

Need new tires for my little Honda
Need credit-cards to build my credit-file and buy a condo
You deliver pizzas
And live in the basement
We read pornography together
You like pornography and I'm bored
I download video-game ring-tones and we look at each other

I watch Chuck Norris battle helicopters on television
Machine guns and motorcycles
You want a motorcycle to deliver pizzas
Your hair is very pretty and soft
I tap tap my computer keyboard
And email my sister in Oklahoma
And make jokes about fertilizers and bombs

At Burger King I crown the boy who lost to the bullies
He rides, bleeding, his bike away
The beautiful girls giggle into their soda re-fills
My favorite place is the zoo
You won't take me so I go alone and feed the penguins
My sister emails about her divorce
Says "I feel more beautiful now that he is alone"

In my little Honda, I listen to Johnny Cash and eat a hamburger
I text you then regret it
The paper says "Woman Pleads Guilty to Firebombing"
All little girls want rock music
You call my cell-phone but I ignore you
Want a yellow plastic table for my apartment
Want to destroy my first date

Buffy the Vampire Slayer slays vampires prettily
Drive down I-90 with a bag of hamburgers
Cell-phone ringing
Dirty snow in piles along the sides of the freeway
I am my own commercial entertainment industry
If celebrities were terrorists today
We could overthrow public relations

In another town, I go to Burger King
Before me, behind me, beautiful girls with credit-cards
Drop-down ceiling-tiles hide closed-circuit video-cameras
Bullies steal a boy's crown and spill soda re-fills on his t-shirt
This boy wants Bill Murray to save him
This boy rides his bike, bleeding, away
My cell-phone ring-tones make me cry

At the border of Idaho and Washington everything looks the same
I want to burn pharmacies with Tom Cruise
I call you and tell you about yellow plastic tables
An airplane flies east again
My little Honda waits by the strip-mall
I'll shop for designer party-favors today
And celebrate something forever

At the hospital I watch car commercials
And you're at war with the middle-class
If you were a boy at Burger King, I'd buy you a motorcycle
Beautiful girls with credit-cards sit in yellow plastic seats
Bill Murray can save no one
I'll drive my little Honda to the Pacific Ocean
I'll drive onto the beach and listen to "independent music"

Bill Murray should kill you
We'll drive across America to save "independent music"
My little Honda on flat gray sand
The little wave that crawls toward my tires
I'm a part of "the world at large" with suffering
I and my little Honda can save America
If I destroy everything I see

1 comment:

amber said...

when you said "i feel more beautiful now that he is alone."

that is very true. and very sad.