Poetry from the book {Bunny Hop} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

The train stopped in Denver and I was on my way to Aspen where the rich play in their Lincoln log mansions

I was going to play it like Robin Hood, only keep the money for myself

I was dressed in heavy combat gear to rob the rich, drunk, and flabby

The snow was deep and it was bitterly cold

The old residents could no longer afford to live in Aspen, it was now populated by politicians, freaks, and gurus

If I had opened a phsyiciatry office I would have made a mint

I was trashing the health spas and robbing Avon ladies and driving off in their pink cadillacs

I was not a wit at technology and so crashed through plate windows and sky lights

I was drawn to a fire in the far distant forest

People were chanting and dancing naked around the heat

The trees did a mock ballet

I joined them in dance and beat on an old Indian drum

They told me they were calling a UFO

I asked them why they would call such a creature

And they said, that they wanted to be taken to a new heaven because this one was broken

I was being tracked and I was tumbling through heavy terrain

Search helicopters glided overhead whispering for my body

I had stumbled and fallen down a deep ravine into a creek bed full of water

I was freezing, the ice and snow had captured me

The best you can do is go down in joy

I had found Shangri La once on the Mississippi River and I am not sure weather you can ever find it again.

Poetry from the book {Bunny Hop} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas