WE’RE GOING TO HELL

We’re singing, laughing; we’re happy

“Anybody wants a pizza?”, someone yells

Is this truth or satire? Getting hard to tell?

Caveat Emptor! Let the buyer beware.

Is the only advice I've heard and can repeat

So on we go, in a jocular vein, resisting all warning

How will we know we’re? The guards at the gate

Are all naked, statuesque and humpable, said a voice

Its a place of sexual delight, morning, afternoon, and night 

Not true, responded another; misinformation! Where do you think 

it come from? People’s minds? We’re too dull and lazy to fabricate

Such wondrous conspiracies. No, it’s full of shops, arcades, and mall

A consumer’s dream, a consumer’s nightmare. Open 24/7 and the other 

days too {whoa, wait; what]. Eat, drink to the extreme, make a fool of yourself

Nobody’s going to notice. They’re doing the same. The food’s kind of irrelevant

It’s a game: in trying to be different you all become the same

A question, I have, a quiet voice breaks the silence. All stop to listen

We all complain about where we’ve been, where we lived our lives

Why are we going somewhere worse? Forgive me for being terse

If living is hell, why do we seek it? For the extremes, another replied

Hell is in the details; in the mediocre, in the safety zone, where you fear

To move, explore, experiment; to become something else; transform

A moment’s silence… stretches … into a pause. No one speaks

What can they say? They aren’t happy with what they are. Is this journey

A good idea? It’s one way. No return. Didn’t they check the ticket?

We’re singing, laughing; we’re happy. “Anybody wants a pizza?”, 

someone yells, is this truth or satire? Is it a musical nightmare?

You’re on a game show with, an audience of millions watching you

“You’ve advanced to the highest level, congratulations”, the host blurts

“The final question. Choose carefully, zero pressure (Ha ha). You have a choice

Between AC/DC’s “highway to hell”, or Led Zeppelin’s “stairway to heaven”

What do you choose?” Does time stand still or do I imagine it? Nothing moves

Do I know the songs? AC/DC? Not so much. LedZepp? Muchly

“Led Zepp”, I respond. The host consults a card, puts a hand to a device in his ear

“I’m sorry,” he said; “just got the news that the stairway to heaven has been closed

For repairs. On The highway to hell, there’s a traffic jam stretching for miles’

“That’s OK,” I say, “The experience was worth the journey. I’ll catch a bus home.