Who devised this bright new machine?
One of you self-styled inventor types bursting on the scene
He’s and upstart, a loony
With a heart of cogs and gears
We don’t like surprises here
With your car parked in my spot
You can call me frail but I’m not, full stop
With your car parked in my spot
I don’t need this today
Is there no place to lie next to suburban sprawls?
As the new traditions shuffle in with funeral shawls
Show me the meaning of this reckless need to pave
Your own predictable way
I predict you’ll infiltrate
Copyright (C) 2009 Jon Ericson
February 23rd, 2009 → 10:39 am @ Jon
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