If I told you I wanted to take you away
And see you run with the jackalopes
Would you think I was mad?
Would you throw back your pretty head and cry, "Goodness what a suggestion!" with the sort of mocking laugh that has always cut me to the core like a flensing knife scything through a minke whale?
Or would you think that it was the most romantic thing you'd ever heard?
Would you take me in your dimpled arms and cry, "YES! Let us go, my love, you and I, to the place where the jackalopes roam, and let us realise our true natures"?
Where the jackalopes run there is no pain, there is no grief, there are no complex financial instruments
Because jackalopes long ago discovered the truth about life:
That life is love, and love is life, and together they form a sort of agglomerated concept known as life-love, or lofe for short
We too can known lofe
If we only go to the land of the jackalopes, and run
Just run, naked and free, happy and wild, face to the wind, bellies to the skies, buttocks to the sun
No longer restrained by bourgeois society
Now made free by jackalope society
We shall finally LIVE!
Can you picture it?
Sitting by the jackalope fire
Singing jackalope songs
Eating jackalope biscuits
Engaging in traditional jackalope erotic tea ceremonies
Playing jackalope scrabble
It could be us, my lofe
It could be us
If you will just say yes
If you will drop what you're doing and join me on this jackalope odyssey
Do not call me mad
Simply because I wish to find a better mode of existence
Do not call me insane
Merely due to my longing for a higher state of being
Do not call me bat-fucking crazy
Just because I once bit off a nun's lips
Just call me your man
And take my hand
And put my hand in your shirt
And move it around a bit
And then we shall truly be jackalope-folk
And happiness may begin
It will all become clear, my lofe
When we run with the jackalopes
It will all become clear
Or if it is more convenient
We could duck into the handicapped toilets and do it in there.