Poetry by Thomas Murphy

Thoughts From A Wal-Mart Parking Lot

Sitting in a Wal-Mart parking lot
Eating my BLT
Watching youngsters walk to and fro
Some odd thoughts occurred to me

Why is it that a boy is husky?
And a girl the same size is fat?
Why do so many girls have those ugly tattoos?
What the hell is up with that?

Ugly tattoos
Of dragons and hearts
Cover their arms
And undisclosed parts

What in your head
Makes you think that it's cool
To mark up the body
God gave you; you fool!

I saw a young lady
About five foot three
Covered in tats
from her neck to her knees

And below each knee
On each calf as well
Was a tat of a dragon
Each pointing to hell

To hell with the dragons
To hell with the tats
As long as they don't smoke
I'm okay with that

Oh wait! But they do
I observed in the lot
Most were chain smoking
They thought it looked hot

So I wondered again
As I watched this strange sight
When they're out on a date
Do boys kiss them goodnight?

Cigarette breath and tats
What a wonderful pair
The smell from the butts
Likely still in her hair

And what about the boys
With their pants around their knees
Someone do them a favor
Buy them a belt please.

It has no shock value
It looks really dumb
It has stupid value
How the hell can they run?

Pull up your pants
And go get a job
Make your Mom and Dad proud
You ignorant slob!

The gene pool has dried up
This is all that remains
This is our future
This is our shame

Things weren't like this
When I was a boy
My parents both loved me
I brought them such joy

Just then a voice in my head broke through
And said "Hold on Cuz"
"You know that's not true"
"Tell the truth now, how it really was"

In a flash my mind
Went back to those days
My memories are clear now
No more my mind's haze

Tight jeans and DA's
And black leather too
Tee shirt sleeves rolled up high
Man! That was cool!

Cigarettes behind the ear
Just like "The Wild One"
Engineer Boots too
Man! That was fun!

Cars with Hurst shifters
For speed shifting fast
Girls in pink pedal pushers
Twenty five cent gas

Cars with big back seats
Was required then too
Making out at the Drive Ins
Until almost two

Getting to second base
Had a whole different meaning
Trying to work the bra clasps
Used to send me home screaming

Drag racing on back roads
All made out of dirt
Cars breaking down always
Walking till my feet hurt

But I'm okay now
At least I think so
So maybe there's hope
For the youngsters we know

My sandwich is finished
You I'll no longer bore
I think I'll go home now And watch
"The Wild One" Once more

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