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Once wasted drunk at swimming pool
A girl with tag: Jenny B Coole
Suggested fuck. I broke guitar
And feathered her employing tar.
Oh, my guitar was really stiff
I damaged fingers playing riffs
That desperate moves, but they ain't cruel,
When swinging wood at J. B. Cool
An year passed by, another did,
Recruiting agency verdict
Came strict. And our rusty craft
We shall anticipate abaft.
My glory days and gorry nights
United in prolific plights
Some gone, some still and smoulder on...
Janet B Coole - my chaperone,
She had a class, she acted cute,
Still staying just a substitute
For someone else beyond my thoughts,
Behind the lines and asymptotes -
Her sister Jane. All 3 of us,
We live on base. It"s built on Mars.
On base I"m ace. Janet - valet,
Rock scientist Jane exploring lead -
We had enough of that cool stuff
To kill, to mould an epitaph,
To terraform this cosmic scene
From ever-red to evergreen...
Let's take a look: Galena ore -
It's best! It sparkles from the core.
Produce thermite from Wulfenite
With love, and set it to ignite.
...We detonated mines of lead,
Raised all the dust from riverbeds,
Wiped out a hill without a trace
And blew (thank Jenny) half the base...
Remaining half she did not blow.
Why so? What reason rings hollow?
What should we do with standing half?
Burn? Cripple? Inundate in gulf?
No votes, no lots, no winning plots,
No wallowing in heavy thoughts -
She rambled down the Martian roads
Collecting all that still explodes
But how and why - no heavy sense
Continue rocky violence:
Immense, immediate, and more
Cognitive skills in pink remorse...
"So all that are and maybe will
Prone to explosive action still." -
Janet"s philosophy so far
Which packed in mobile grimoire
We"re digging lead on Mars? - It"s farce!
It's eco-crime and disturbánce!
Let"s build instead "jardin sauvage"
To culture weed for our stash.
So that was said, so that she did
To clutter all with heavy weed
Which grew, to mention, not quite green
But red - or something in between:
Disgusting shades, unpleasant shapes
Destroying all the fair landscapes
And yet no crawler could succeed
With that impenetrable shit
The lead as mining looking dead,
But kept for holding etiquette
And cover. Terraforming weed
Assures enthusiastic greed.
Still we decided to suppress
The growth of weed (no more, no less)
Which bless the life on planet red
For Jane, for me and for Janet!
Did we forget to mention Jane?
Her struggles, wisdom, joys and pain,
Her brain, charisma, lush and posh,
When she was playing solo squash?
Oh, Jane - she"s playful like a hog,
She"s smart as devil going rogue,
Her epilogue will not be calm
As touching ebony lingam!
First, what we did to curb the weed -
"Hey pals, we'll force them to stampede!"
The plan was fair, the aim was true:
Let's burn a cleaning, one or two!
Who was the actor of those days -
I do not say, to save the face...
Now what, the burning made its turn -
As a result, the total burn;
That heavy smoke did its affair -
It unleashed thru thin Martian air
This scent of grass, to put things worse,
Got spread across the universe -
The trace of smoke, the smell of burn
On thru the galaxy, and on
In time entire cosmic fleet
Of every race arrived compete
For weed. Heroic we or not
We died by menace silly bought.
We"ve seen: discharged iconoclast...
Be lead to lead, and dust to dust!
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