25 July 2011

Yo Yo Adjustment


I don’t know which way is up

And which way is right

Some police officers

From the mathematics division

Was asking me the square

Of the hippopotenuse

But I kept shtum –

I ain’t as dumb as I look

And I don’t look as dumb as I seem

I just stared at their Velcro macramé feet

And acted all sweet and innocent

Like a Spanish hyena in heat

“I had shoes like em once,” I said,

“but they wouldn’t hang straight.”

They beat me relentlessly

They beat me thoroughly

When they eventually left

I knew I’d been beaten

Cops don’t hand out beatings

Like that no more, no pride

No professional pride in their work

I’m not complaining see

And I ain’t going all nostalgic

It’s just I hate to see declining standards

I lost my sense of up and down

So I went to have my yo – yo adjusted

The man said we don’t do that no more

People use satellite navigators

“I can’t afford no scatellite,” I said

“If everybody gets a scatellite -

They will blot out the sun!”

But we’ll know where it is,

He said, we’ll track it on satellites.

I got a new string for my yo – yo

But he said I’d have to wind it myself

They had declining standards to maintain

I no longer know which way is up

And which way is right

My yo – yo pulls to the left

Or maybe it’s me -

Standing a little to the right


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