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Poem on a Line by Kurt Weill

A car radio is blasting chatter in rhyme,
The iambic rhapsody of a scratched record
Repeating the same vowels over and over-
But the sitar music from the Uber I’m in
Reminds me of something peaceful somewhere...
Don’t ask me to follow your most interesting tale,
I’m a stranger here myself.

“If you have a friend, so true,
Trump him before he trumps you”
As they say nowadays, it’s all the news.
So where shall we buy our meat?
The meat is rancid, the line is long.
As if I knew where the butchers congregate-
I’m just a stranger here myself.

Better to cry foul than be made the fool!
I’ve not seen such a pile of shit
Since the war in Iraq-
Now they hand out new limbs
Like taco day at the ballpark.
I’d like to say we’ve suffered enough
But I’m a stranger here myself.

Is anybody there, hello...hello!
I come from far away, and long ago,
They tell me I’m all over the place
And to try and focus, but I ask why?
Focus on where I’ve been
Or where I’m going?
I’m a stranger here myself.

Last few words: 
Hard to outdo “I’m a stranger here myself...”in the song by Weill, but I tried. The poem is surely in the beat mode of theater of the absurd, each stanza looking to evoke a different emotional response, especially humor.
Editing stage: 


Whooo, tongue in cheek vitriol, or can be read in a melancholic manner.


Call me easy to please, but I just like everything about this
A lyrical clever sweet read, contemporary, goes down like cold milk!

Wonderful poem!
Best Z ;)

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