What happened to us, man?

You no longer turn me on.

In and out and off again

while I am barely wet.

It’s symptomatic of our age.

We’re running out of steam.

Stripped and stood beneath

that watering can contraption

for a whole five minutes,

you trample on my dreams.

What happened to our special time?

Are you really so shallow?

 

Sure, that’s what I hear too –

better for the environment.

Save the planet.

But dig this, man,

we inanimate objects,

we have feelings too!

I’ve been waiting on a flood

for longer than Noah!

Where else can I find

my Eureka moment?

 

Every day the same old drizzle;

intermittent showers,

only passing through.

Don’t give me that eastern philosophy

eternal river soft soap flannel

stream of consciousness bullshit.

Give me something solid

to grasp and possess.

I wanna plumb the depths,

feel the water rise and luxuriate,

liquidise and reverberate.

Let me stagnate and speculate

whether I’m half empty or half full. 

Plug me in! Damn me!

And the salts, man, don’t forget the salts!