Tomorrow’s dragsville, cats

From High School Confidential (1958),

a beat poem recited by the inimitable Phillipa Fallon,

to musical accompaniment by Uncle Fester:

“High School Drag”

My old man was a bread stasher all his life.
He never got fat. He wound up with a used car,
a 17 inch screen and arthritis.

Tomorrow is a drag, man.
Tomorrow is a king sized bust.

They cried ‘put down pot,’ ‘don’t think a lot,’ for what?
Time, how much? And what to do with it.

Sleep, man, and you might wake up digging the whole
human race giving itself three days to get out.

Tomorrow is a drag, pops, the future is a flake.

I had a canary who couldn’t sing.
I had a cat who let me share my pad with her.
I bought a dog that killed the cat who ate the canary.
What is truth?

I had an uncle with an ivy league card.
He had a life with a belt in the back.
He had a button-down brain.
Wind up a belt in the mouth with a button-down lip.

We cough blood on this earth.
Now there’s a race for space.
We can cough blood on the moon soon.

Tomorrow’s dragsville, cats.
Tomorrow is a king size drag.

Tool a fast shore, swing with a gassy chick.
Turn on to a thousand joys.
Smile on what happened, or check what’s going to happen,
You’ll miss what’s happening.
Turn your eyes inside and dig the vacuum.

Tomorrow, DRAG.


3 responses to “Tomorrow’s dragsville, cats

  1. Old Dominion Tory

    Come now . . . this is much better:

  2. “Life is real, life is earnest. If you’re cold, turn up the furnace.” Sounds like a Republican stump speech of yore!

    More classic beatnik stuff, for the cool cat with warm britches:

  3. As I read “tomorrow is a drag”, I thought of Clint Eastwood’s comment, with a smile, to Ed Harris in “Absolute Power”:
    “Tomorrow is promised to no one.”
    It may be a (cursor) drag to find it, but the line is around 8:19 into this clip from the film:

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