swing down
sweet chariot
and let me ride
while astride
the majestic, manacled mannequins
of mercury.
swing down
and let me bitch slap
every one of pluto's post-planetary
penny-pinching patriarchs.
perhaps,
all the shooting stars could be aligned
on my own personal axis,
of course i have forgotten to pay
for countless years
of imperial war taxes.
i hear that on venus
there is nothing fractious,
that on jupiter
everyone else maybe relaxes
-but me and my bop gun.
swing down
sweet chariot
comin forth
to drive me home
while gettin pulled over
for having a whole nuther galaxy
to roam.
