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Chairman Fish's Big Red Book
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"Do you speak the dialect, The Basolect and Mesolect?" The local patois, cries, for your respect. It calls to you, direct. The cause, you should affect. Politically, false, or correct? Hypocrisy, others detect. "Will you destroy, to build, you, architect?" "Iconoclast! Revolutionary! Alien!" they interject. "Why", says the establishment, "do you reject?" "We, only ask you, to genuflect." "Then, we, will give you the power..." "Do what, we will and, we, will give you powers. Your crude, creed, curdles and sours. The agenda, has always, been our's. We, call you, to respect our ivory towers. We don't disrespect and ask you to cower. We know, our might will, eventually, devour, Your, all, consuming, passion, deflower-ing, In a breeding ground, all around, A maelstrom, melted, poured into a mould, and bound. Hercules, is captured." "Oh! No! Your day, is done... The past, is dead, and gone. Mine, the rising sun. My race is still to run. My battle's waiting, to be won. Your's, the headless chicken, still, macabrely, having fun. Ivory towers demolished with your ed-u-cay-shy-on, Academia's defeated don! Behold: the future cro-mag-non... Time for your hi-ber-nay-shy-on I'll be there, if you awake."
© Stefan Lewis-Fish |
