Le Tombeau de Maynard G. Krebs

Portrait of Bob Denver as Maynard by Drew Friedman

The poem High School Drag by Mel Welles
Recitation by Phillipa Fallon
from the movie High School Confidential (1958)
Music by David Jason Snow


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-size bust.

They cried, "Put down pot, don't think a lot."
For what?
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 that let me share my pad with her.
I bought a dog that killed the cat that ate the canary.
What is truth?

I had an uncle with an Ivy League heart.
He had life with a belt in the back.
He had a button-down brain,
wind up a belt in the mouth
and 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 is 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.