The Basic Need Of Our Feral Carnival Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I think if you can live in your own carnival
You will do quite well,
Removed from the lilac farts of the petty
Bourgeoisie; for, if a part of the counter culture
You will remain just as affected
As the lipstick and gloss
Yuppies you despise, and how they are
Always checking their watches;
Alienated from the galvanization of
Your mother’s production line,
Defining yourself as an Indian;
Your holiday of movement is still
Dictated by the tourism of the elite,
And their theatres of action and war;

Swim with me now across the canal,
Where the coeds bath in the plethora of gaudy lights,
In our futile defiance of gravity’s weakest elements,
We should flip around the earth and is foliage
Until we tumble,
So we should shake loose from memory every
Rote memorization,
Until there is only the basic need of our feral carnival.