Boom City

Take off you pants and prepare to boom,
The kind of boom that makes flowers bloom,
The boom up your ass that stinks up the room.
Or post coitus boom when the coitus ends
The sweaty kind of boom you could text your friends.
Its why there are dudes who saw New Moon,
It’s the clamor that spurred all the media boom.
Its boomin’ inside all the fancy bars,
It sells perfume and pointy red cars.
Its that girl in a tree outside your room,
Its her Nikon camera with telescopic zoom.
It made Sinatra croon and all the ladies swoon,
So mommies and daddies could also boom.
It put the bug inside the cocoon
So he could could too, he wants to boom!
Even cowboys boomed in the saloon,
They boomed up the hoop of a prostitute.
The boom that makes the sky consume,
And fall to the sea in a great typhoon.
Boom like Brooke Shields on Blue Lagoon.
Its the flowers that are laid outside your tomb.
The equilateral triangle that seals your doom.
It’s a shame, its a chore, its a purpose, its a pity,
Its real fuckin’ real now. Boom city.