Saturday 9 June 2012

HIPPIES

Stoned hippies worship worse hips than their own,
Praising those who emit an arthritic groan,
It makes them feel better about their pelvic regions,
Passing round joints in swift rotation,
Reflecting on hip joints in their legions.
An alpha-hippie who is making a point,
Is unconsciously trying to take over the joint.
The other hippies refuse to stand for it,
They refuse to stand at all,
Struggling with their overall comprehension,
Of skeletal structures like a socket with a ball.
Ironically, they’re bone idol while their idol is a bone.
Someone plucks at a guitar and drones a paean to the pelvis,
His stoned compatriots are transfixed although he’s hardly Elvis.





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