Told To Go To A Heated Place Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

People are crazed.
And don't know what they want.

They want the government out of their lives.
And yet they want to be protected from terrorists.
As well as those they know,
Who are revealed to be thieves.
Their next door neighbors...
Who have committed petty crimes.
The ones who drive Benzes and Mercedes.

They wish not to pay another tax.
But expect free this and that...
And become angered,
When they spend their last dime.
Wasted on craps.
And other casino traps.

No second best!
They want to be better than the rest.
They want to build and show progress.
They want their stores stocked like packed nests.
They want to dress and stop breaths...
Because they want to look so good!
Moisturized, tanned and...
Buffed.

And they want to pocket huge dollars for doing,
Less than they should.
ALL...
Delivered by the Good Witch from the East,
Glenda!
Remember her from the Wizard of Oz?
Glenda?
The one who promised Dorothy,
If she really wanted...
She could and 'would' get back to Kansas.
Or get that which her heart truly desired.
Just with the clicking of her pumped and Rubied heels.
Three times.
And...
That's all it would take!

'Please let me get back to a credit A rating!
Please let me get back to a credit A rating!
Please let me get back to a credit A rating! '

People are crazed.
And don't know what they want.

They want also to be the first to occupy 'Space'.
You know...
Outer Space?
With much of that 'inner' space between their ears vacant.

They want the government out of their lives.
Day and night,
Loudly they make this clear.
But want their interests protected by those they elect...
Done.
And 'stunned' by the cost,
To maintain their exorbitant delusions.

And those who confront them...
Are told to go to a heated place!
And while there,
To kiss where the Sun does not shine!