Godzilla poem!
If Godzilla Had Roller-skates
he’d be a happier lizard
zipping and gliding down the highway to Tokyo,
admiring the molehill Mt. Fuji along the way.
He’d stop for grilled squid in the Sea of Japan
where overly concerned mothers of castle-builders
call their children back from the waves. Under the stripped umbrellas
as Godzilla has an atomic barbeque, the women scream
as his scaly appendages come towards them,
roaring in delight he uses the parasols as toothpicks after his feast.
Brave boys point in wonderment, coveting the monstrous roller-skates
as Godzilla jumped back on the road, pavement flying.
On the shoulder of the freeway he’d take a quick catnap
where, snoozing in the sun, he’d be as content as an iguana
whose belly is full of crickets, resting under a new sunlamp.
The nightlife in Tokyo would really come alive
when Godzilla made his way onto the scene.
Sporting his nifty footgear, and eager to show off his moves,
Godzilla would make his way into the nearest roller rink,
hearing the latest pop hit. As he made his way onto the floor,
crashing through the roof, squishing the DJ and concession stand workers
the lights and music would die, forcing Godzilla to find the next hotspot.
Several clubs later, the army rolls into the city in tanks with missiles
hunting the King of Monsters down. When he’s found near Tokyo Tower,
he sees the tanks and wonders why these men are so unhappy.
He’s only looking for a party-- to have a good time. The men have speakers
there are lights throughout the city and bars along the strip,
if the men would crank up some tunes everyone could have a great time.
he’d be a happier lizard
zipping and gliding down the highway to Tokyo,
admiring the molehill Mt. Fuji along the way.
He’d stop for grilled squid in the Sea of Japan
where overly concerned mothers of castle-builders
call their children back from the waves. Under the stripped umbrellas
as Godzilla has an atomic barbeque, the women scream
as his scaly appendages come towards them,
roaring in delight he uses the parasols as toothpicks after his feast.
Brave boys point in wonderment, coveting the monstrous roller-skates
as Godzilla jumped back on the road, pavement flying.
On the shoulder of the freeway he’d take a quick catnap
where, snoozing in the sun, he’d be as content as an iguana
whose belly is full of crickets, resting under a new sunlamp.
The nightlife in Tokyo would really come alive
when Godzilla made his way onto the scene.
Sporting his nifty footgear, and eager to show off his moves,
Godzilla would make his way into the nearest roller rink,
hearing the latest pop hit. As he made his way onto the floor,
crashing through the roof, squishing the DJ and concession stand workers
the lights and music would die, forcing Godzilla to find the next hotspot.
Several clubs later, the army rolls into the city in tanks with missiles
hunting the King of Monsters down. When he’s found near Tokyo Tower,
he sees the tanks and wonders why these men are so unhappy.
He’s only looking for a party-- to have a good time. The men have speakers
there are lights throughout the city and bars along the strip,
if the men would crank up some tunes everyone could have a great time.