(As today is supposed to be the Rapture, I thought some Rapture-based poetry would be most appropriate. Not my own, this time. )

Fab Five Freddy told me everybody’s fly
DJ spinning I said “My, My”
Flash is fast,
Fash is cool,
Francois c’est pas flashe non due.
And you don’t stop,
Sure shot.
Go out to the parking lot,
And you get in your car,
And drive real far.
And you drive all night,
And then you see a light.
And it comes right down,
And it lands on the ground,
And out comes the man from Mars!
And you try to run,
But he’s got a gun,
And he shoots you dead,
And he eats your head.
And then you’re in the man from Mars!
You go out at night eating cars.
You eat Cadillacs,
Lincolns too,
Mercuries and Subarus.
And you don’t stop.
You keep on eating cars.
Then when there’s no more cars you go out at night,
And eat up bars where the people meet.
Face to face.
Dance cheek to cheek,
One to one,
Man to man,
Dance toe to toe.
Don’t move too slow ,
‘Cause the man from Mars is through with cars,
He’s eating bars,
Yeah wall to wall,
Door to door,
Hall to hall,
He’s gonna eat ’em all!
Rapture!
Be pure.
Take a tour through the sewer.
Don’t strain your brain.
Paint a train.
You’ll be singing in the rain.
Said don’t stop to the punk rock.

Well now you see what you wanna be,
Just have your party on TV.
‘Cause the man from Mars,
Won’t eat up bars where the TV’s on.
And now he’s gone back up to space,
Where he won’t have a hassle with the human race.
And you hip hop,
And you don’t stop,
Just blast off,
Sure shot!
Because the man from Mars stopped eating cars,
And eating bars,
And now he only eats guitars!
Get up!

(With thanks to Blondie and Debbie Harry)