Somewhere over the rainbow theres fools gold and a little lephrechaun man telling you NO.
Dorothy smoked cigarettes behind the barn so Antie Uh-hEmmm wouldnt catch her,
she complained to her dog, or the horses, or to the rainbows and hay bales,
she was unhappy on the farm, fuck! (she’d say)
I wanna get out of this pigsty!
I wanna say buh-bye
to Kansas and buh-bye
to chores, to milking the cow at the crack of dawn,
to rising from bed, to the sound of a cock,
to cooking stew, to finding mud on my cute new red shoes.
So she bought a one way ticket to Adventure, using the money she saved up,
she hopped on a train heading West, out of town,
5 dollars, 50 cents, and an insignificant, 2 day, overnight ride later, and she was in California,
and transferred to a bus.
En route to Adventure, the Driver ran over a banana peel, throwing the bus off track reeking destruction total destruction
on a small Ozian suburb.
The Bus Driver hit a person on impact before crashing into a home-town-style market shop.
Napkins and fried chicken flew off in every direction, lost in the whirlwind breeze of Oz’s windy season,
Someone shouted, a fire extinguisher exploded, everything was dripping wet and the town was wheezing, the sirens were blaring and there was mass confusion amidst the troubled rubble.
The person hit died on impact.
Only her black-and-white socks were recognizable amidst the outrage and chaos and billowing humid smoke.
Dorothy felt the doom, hovering over her head, teasing her and prodding her so she couldn’t sleep.
She felt like gloom.
She felt like mud had shit on her shoe.
She wanted to go home but she couldn’t find home, she wasn’t here or there, this which way or that.
She was lost
in the wreck
she found no love, no mind, no courage to face the day.
She didn’t want to travel down the road
that was paved in fools gold.
Grumpy me (she’d say) fuck!
Crushed spirits, de ja vu, there has to be more than this…
this has to be a bad dream projected
on someone’s TV screen.