Riding the Bus in Hollywood, California
heroic couplets by Rebecca Grabman

“Now, don’t do drugs,” he told me most sincere.

“I won’t,” I said – he looked at me quite queer:

“No crack?” he asked, “No meth, no smack, no dope?
You’re not a firm believer in the pope?”

“I don’t do drugs, I also don’t do God.”

“Good girl,” he beamed, “Religion’s just a fraud.
With drugs and Jesus on my side I found
It wasn’t hard to run my ships aground –
Imaginary friends are quick to find
But they take hold of the controls and blind
You to what I know really matters most:
It ain’t the Father, Son or Holy Ghost!
It ain’t the beer or cigarettes, you know:
It’s ‘bout you seeing who is gonna show
Up on the judgment day when Satan rules.”

I interrupted, “Isn’t God for fools?”

“To not believe in Evil is much worse.
‘Cause once sin sees you, you can not reverse
The things that you have brought upon yourself:
Your name’s recorded, set upon the shelf.
The Book of Verdict tells it true and full –
The shameless thoughts and all the things you stole.
You trust in Satan, not in God, you see?”

“Um, no,” I said, “Still looks like fraud to me.”

“Well, you’re not old enough to understand –
To feel the awesome power of his hand
Just guiding you toward fiery pits of pain
Until your only choice that still remains
Is run from those that wicked thoughts still touch.”

“Like those who love their money far too much?”

“And other things – you must know who to trust.
You got a boy? Mistaking love with lust?
Your love is your own; always play it smart.
Be careful, hon, boys only break your heart.”

“I’ll thank you, please stop giving me advice
about avoiding all this sin and vice.
I like to think myself a clever girl,
And that will be the last, that little pearl
Of wisdom you so graciously impart.”

“I see,” he sighed, “you think yourself too smart.”
Then up he rose, but hollered as he went,
“One day you’ll learn the truth, my friend: Repent!”

And so he said what he had meant to say –
But I have no intentions to obey.