Venus in a giant half shell

too tired to mount the stairs,

i'm heavy with fatigue.

strange new cares

are pushing me down

until i can see

to the bottom of the sea,

and all the creatures trying to make it

are dressing in transsexual costumes

or else trying to fake it;

they're pushing open the revolving door

where a television

is portraying the ongoing civil war,

with battles on city streets and in the public square:

people looking for an escape are lost but discovering Mister Nowhere,

climbing ladders for a better view

to the top of the watch tower and down Fifth Avenue;

stories are thrown into the mix

and everybody wants to be in on the fix,

but the glue holding it all together

easily comes undone during spells of stormy weather:

in case there is some confusion when the music cries at night,

i'm swallowing pharmaceutical medicines to help myself feel alright,

and as part of the gathering crowd, i'm looking for an store front to swallow

or when i spy an anxious protest banner, i'll eagerly follow,

trying to find missing pieces of the broken wall

where the body of Humpty Dumpty one time took his big fall,

remembering that all the King's horses and their frustrated dreams

are not always on my side because nothing is ever like it seems.

there's a red glow on the horizon and choking smoke on the breeze;

people are rising and falling, some down on bending knees

and on the radio above the static from the street,

i hear an excited grumbling from a voice filled with conceit;

and echos rumbling like a company of army tanks

tumble down the main thoroughfare, past the parks, and the Wall Street banks:

loose gypsies are dancing on the spinning carousel,

famous minorities are ringing the front door bell,

and Venus, who's still standing nude in a giant half shell,

still has her secrets but she'll never tell

who is favored to win the big game and what's the final cost

for the gambler who bets it all and never once has lost.

yes, there is a still lot to lose 

and someone has to eventually pick and choose,

but when asked which I prefer, I would rather refuse

since all the answers can only be seen 

in the shooting stars or on the evening news.