By JOHN GONZALES
If it were a sign from heaven, from the great beyond … or … there was a psycho killer who was after you – to destroy you – like Godzilla – all of you. With his Fire-breath, rained down on you and yours – laying your town to ashes, while – asking – not that it really matters … “hey, let’s get some coffee and a breakfast burrito, too.”
But where does Zozobra reside – in jail-in prison, locked up tight. The fire is real – burning like the crown, in Spanish, “corona”. But where does Zozobra reside, Ft. Marcey’s Park – Captured and there in the dark with all of you – having coffee.
And amidst the confusion of what to do, you know what you should do – and that is to shout and to chant, “Burn Him, Burn him, Burn him”. It is Godzilla’s Breath that is masked, you see – it’s best for you, it’s best for me, too.
“Mandates, we don’t need no stinking Mandates”, – hey, I get it. But “Godzilla Breath” – can somewhat be contained by sticking a Mask upon Zozobra’s face – And not a bra, upon his head. So, think now of the issue anew, and it will help, the mises-un-information-deal.
Turn the dial – another station. “Do you hear me now, (know, no)? A new horizon where no one asks, “Can I see your badges, please? …” Badges, we don’t need no stinking Badges.” Applause please, the end.
Mandrake, tither-titter-tatters, upon the matter, “Mandates”, and spin’s the reel, that is, “the bottle”, and asks, “What’s in a Riddle me, What?”
Touch the issue and hear the song from the band The Buzzcocks. Answer, in the form of a question: “Why Can’t I Touch It.”