from the top of the tree
and splash around the children
if they're lucky they'll stay dry this year
and tear up clovers but nevermind
the voice from the school house
and then the sophisticated television
foretelling the future
snappy and vile
promises pointless greed and politics.
this year the children are all getting drenched
and next year there will be a new breed of
the same old shit.
let's follow one child now
as he grows through the peaceful anatomy of lizards and fantasy
on his game boy screen.
don't be too quick to tell him
beyond the flying dragons is nothing
but a dying planet and a corporation sponsoring it.
but don't let him discover it all on his own either
or you'll never get home again.