Saturday, April 13, 2013

4272. STOP THE WORLD, I WANT TO GET OFF

STOP THE WORLD,
I WANT TO GET OFF
No, that's not a sex-maniac's plea for service.
It was a Broadway thing about 1963, Anthony
Newley or someone like that belting out the
tune to end all tunes. Went over big, if big
brings you to nowhere. I think it was about
a circus performer. I can't remember.
-
Now, thinking back, most of the cars were big.
Along the theater district streets, I'd see the
long black Cadillacs (when they still had class)
and those fine, leggy dames sauntering by. To
a new young guy like me, just learning all that,
it certainly looked fine enough. I had a hustle.
-
Made a few green dollars. Not much, mind you.
Then Kennedy was gone, Johnson came in,
began babbling trite goodness about this thing
and that, and - all of a sudden - the bastard
started firing guns in the jungle. And guns in
the jungle some more - God-damn Vietnam.
-
Be the first one on your block to have your
kid home in a box. Country Joe sang that.
Like shit he did - another name-change
trickster doing his thing. Oh that Vietnam,
now wasn't that a fling? The first war
from Vaudeville that didn't
mean a thing.

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