Tuesday, August 23, 2005

I was a goody mang

I was a goody mang
a tree top tumble weed
super grip action man
with webbed feet
and heli-vision
swinging tarzan flight
glide and trip
climb and jump
sleeping to wake

I was a goody mang
turning tricks
and moaning first
loudest winning the
idiot's paradise with
kid's pride as prizes
the number is forgotten
the pack reshuffled
and we start anew

I was a goody mang
today in this adult world
hoping for applause I
belt out tongued actions
deception of the crooked voice
illusions of kindness and wonder
implying feelings of Mr. Goody
right by your side
and if by chance
you see through me
a bent double little
boy you'll see
who lost a game
many moons ago,
who now has only
quick lips to show
he is a survivor of
the racing masses,
a fitter inner in
this world of
mad manacle devices,
of cruel games to
lock up competitors in
a game of
Death Mask Hide
and Seek

But Mr Goody Mang
is with me and
I'll serve him to you
with a smile and
some tea. For despite
my cheating I still
am a Goody Mang.

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