as a naked man

sure i sat there listening

after my shower with face newly-washed & glistening

feeling somewhat loco

hearing the strange wails of the infamous Yoko

when i grabbed a tobacco-laden pipe

using its' smoke to hide from the sudden sight

of my wandering soul 

about to pay the highway toll

to take a ferry ride to Heaven's bar

which i knew couldn't be very far:

i could almost see the bartenders

who were adjusting their spiritual suspenders,

snapping each one in turn,

asking me what i hoped to learn

when it finally became my turn

to sit with God while drinking a cup of sweet tea

and he'd smilingly question me

about the shampoo leftovers in my hair

and how it had ended up there

since i was naked and obviously well-fed,

still sleeping in my own bed,

pretending that i wasn't dead?

so i took another deep drag from my smoking instrument

wondering where Yoko went

while rewinding the 8 track tape

to a metropolitan phone booth and a lonely Superman's cape

where the hanging phone is constantly ringing:

i can hear a black chorus singing

in spite of everything having gone wrong

and i am in awe of their beautiful Freedom Song,

so putting down my pipe and removing the last traces of shampoo

i'm remembering what's important and what I still hope to do,

answering the call is just the beginning and a decent start,

blowing smoke rings as a naked man with his human heart,

watching and waiting, but i'm no longer anticipating

seeing how the twinkling stars in the night skies shine

as they take their celestial seats to align

with all the mysteries carefully written on the hands of time.