Martin's Fiercely Independent Road Monkey

Martin's fiercely independent road monkey
Flings his feces at the passing cars
Dines on gummy worms and chlorophyll munch nuggets,
So cleansing so deep so real.
Oh how he bargains with the passers by
In search of lost boys who lose their place on cold winter nights
Who want to be fiercely independent too
But whose soft underbelly undercuts their best efforts.

Could have been in the parade,
Could have been in the parade, cries Martin.
Please don't fling your feces!

Martin's fiercely independent road monkey
Dives fast into the colostomy bag of his slightly aberrant subconscious.
Wistful adumbration of burnt sienna charred to perfection
Seared, to delight the least cautious among us.

Should have been in the parade,
Should have been in the parade, cries Martin.
Please don't fling your feces!

Martin's fiercely independent road monkey
Laughs and laughs at all the silly ladies who want love but get him.
And get him they don't for there is just so much a road monkey can put up with
When it's rainy season and jobs are hard to find.
Why don't they want me?  Why do you want me?
The feces is the thing, road monkey and the munch nuggets
Are the power.
Ten minutes out and a decision must be made.

Would have been in the parade
Would have been in the parade, cries Martin.
Never again fling your feces!

Martin's fiercely independent road monkey
Takes the toll road to a previously undiscovered wormhole
Hovering with no small amount of caution above the fray.
Be in the parade, stop throwing feces.