Dead cans o’dad beer by Ken Greenley

DEAD CANS O’ DAD BEER

Walkin through the woods
found a crumpled box
a scattered pile o’ cans
Dead cans o’ Dad Beer sittin in the woods,
Dead cans o’ Dad Beer drunk by teenage hoods,
Dead cans o’ Dad beer couldn’ta tasted good.
Looks like
some little punk kids
stole some Dad beer
Reingold or Black label,
Schaefer or Pabst
some shit like that
swiped it out the garage
or down the basement
or wherever fine Dad beer is kept
Looks like
these little derelicts
went out and got
a coupla their cruddy little friends
then they took that bee-ah
and went out in the woods
to do some drinkin in the gully.
Dead cans o’ Dad beer
attestin to the fact
Dead cans o’ Dad beer
Young minds are out of whack
Dead cans o’ Dad beer sittin in a circle
Little teenyboppers goin’ all beserko
Dead cans o’ Dad Beer sittin in the woods,
Dead cans o’ Dad Beer drunk by teenage hoods,
Dead cans o’ Dad beer couldn’ta tasted good.

Ken Greenley February 4, 1958 – February 12, 2020 was a writer who lived in Denver, Colorado. The number of places he’s lived is only exceeded by the number of job’s he’s had. Greenley liked to explore the themes of class division (in a supposedly classless country), the struggle to stay spiritual in the modern world, and the growth episodes that occur in childhood. He thought art, particularly writing, should combat media brainwashing, and should examine the clash between what we’re told and what really happens. He tried to make his material as funny as possible, because he found it hard to make modern life seriously, and considered it his mission “to make people laugh and think at the same time.”

Much more on Ken Greenley can be found by clicking here… and here…

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