bobdylan5

This is a poem I wrote when I was living in Washington. I'm posting this for its_weaselle who threatened to whip me if I didn't post a poem.


Ten Year Old Child at the American History Museum
By Michael S. Walker

The culture of money
That was the story.
Surrounded by acolytes
And the kids brainwashed eyes kept drifting
From the ravaged threads of Old Glory
To the museum store where there was
A stovepipe hat that he wanted to buy.
He said that a tin cut-out
Of Kokopelli, hunch-backed flautist
Reminded him of Ren and Stimpy
The evolution of looms was boring
In the extreme.
(As was a cross-section of fall-out shelter
Stocked well with Velveeta cheese
And the worlds greatest books.)
Finally. I took him outside, bought him ice cream
He was happy for fifteen minutes
Dripping vanilla on his
Tomb Raider shirt.