by Beat Spiccoli

Created on: January 22, 2010   Last Updated: February 19, 2010

Visited places of our dead 
Unafraid of where they laid 
We chose this place to dance 
Embraced by moon we played 

Drank ourselves to souldeath 
While mountains broke down 
Killing fears of uncertainty 
Poison panacaea for a frown 

Slowly lost our holiness 
Putrefying for a season 
Chipped away at self-respect 
A swap of faith and reason 

Her name was Mariah 
An angel in velveteen 
So sweet and pure, she was 
Innocent and hardly sixteen 

She pertly prompted a visit 
Giving prophecy to tragedy 
Failing our invitation to act 
We wreaked ritual comedy 

Impromptu midnight raid 
We stole from a sleeping boy 
Dreaming of tomorrow's play 
We reanimated his special toy 

Yellow and red in moonlit glow 
Gleaming-new special machine 
Spirited away in a half-minute 
By insane agents unforeseen 

It was a crane with working boom 
A tool for lifting myriad objects 
Vivified with the epithet, "Bob" 
Imbued with boundless affects 

The highest form of sculpture 
Manifested at trivial scale 
Bob became the object worshipped 
Bob purified us through travail 

He drudged at the ancient drive-ins 
Labored at late-night drive-throughs 
Enlightening many in his path 
His was the spirit to amuse 

But reason ruled after a month 
Our muse captured and cowed 
We must return our Bob Crane 
After bludgeoning him before a crowd 

He was the King of the Comedians 
He was the King of the Yahoos 
But the act of joy was scourging 
And our faith was hijinks and hoodoos 

After entombment in the trunk 
Of Pontius Stephens' Chevrolet 
We returned Bob Crane to his boy 
Intact for a child's innocent play 

He was transfigured for a time 
Of excellent amusement 
Abused and excoriated 
Resurrected by Cranians lucent 

The unknown is still unknown 
I believe that little kid feared 
Bob Crane raised from the dead 
And suddenly reappeared 

So many times over the years 
I think of the boy without reason 
To visit him now as a man 
And ask him if he had a vision 

I'd tell him of Bob's Romans 
Their fates throughout the years 
How they lost their salvation 
And learned to face their fears 

Learn more about this author, Beat Spiccoli.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.