(about 1992 ~ adapted from a poem "Refugees" by Beckian Goldberg)
There are too many buses in the world.
Let's ban them. There are too many
cigarette butts in the road, let's not accept
one more. And let the smokers fend
for themselves.
There are too many aluminum cans and televisions and
garbage dumps.
Wars have begun to be fought against drugs and disease.
And whatever our hearts are full of they
are full.
Go back.
We have Hardees, McDonalds, and 7-11.
We have enough leftover bricks.
Our toys are populous, and our worms
need to die. There are too many airlines
and phone companies . . .
There are too many buses.
Flies have begun to surround the trash.
And wherever a stop sign is posted, there's someone
to keep rolling.
We have too many commercials and appointments and beauty products.
We have the unemployed in town and don't need them to be homeless.
We have six-million celebrities--
And let coins find their own face,
there is too much through them in business--
There are too many brand names in the world.
Let's pass a law. Too many triangle ones
and square ones, tight ones, and plaid.
We have too much candy.
there are too many poppy-seeds.
Go home.
