TumbleDweeeb

Pong
A Multisyllabic, Whimsy, Stream of Consciousness Rhyme This is a poem/song about my inherited 70s culture through my father.
By: Emmitt Owens
(Index #01062026)

[Verse 1]
I woke up in a laundromat of thoughts, quarters arguing
Dryers gossip in Morse code, socks filing grievances
I sip a cup of yesterday’s rain with paper umbrellas
While the sun clocks in late, wearing someone else’s schedules
I’m a maybe built of spare parts, hummingbird stitches
Blueprints smudged by fingerprints and optimistic glitches
They ask “you good?” I answer “say good, then underline it”
I’m navigating by rotary phone and a magnetized conscience
Richard Pryor on the stereo teaching me, honest
The clock keeps tripping over its own second hand
Got directions on a napkin that refuse understanding
Every arrow points to “shrug,” every legend says “try again”
I high-five the void, it misses, we laugh play pretend

[Hook]
It’s a racket, it’s a rally, it’s a back-and-forth song
Ball bouncing off the margins like “you right—no, you wrong”
When the rec room’s sweating and the basement feels too long
I breathe, let it ricochet—like that old-school beep—ping… pong

[Verse 2]
I built a tiny city out of buckets and sidewalk chalk
Traffic lights blink “groovy,” the pigeons fucking talk
There’s one in a hard hat running safety checks
And a beatnik with a staple gun claiming sunsets
I keep my secrets in a teacup with a hairline crack
Every sip tastes like a promise wrapped in 8-tracks
I wave at all the versions of me stuck in traffic cones
They wave back with lava lamps and their rotary phones
The elevator hums Zeppelin between the floors
I tip it in compliments, it opens extra doors
The mirror’s got an attitude, says “man, be kind”
So I leave a sticky note and borrow someone’s spine

[Hook]
It’s a racket, it’s a rally, it’s a back-and-forth song
Ball bouncing off the margins like “you right—no, you wrong”
When the rec room’s sweating and the basement feels too long
I breathe, let it ricochet—two paddles and a dream—ping… pong

[Bridge]
Bridge under construction, conscience wearing bell-bottoms
I cross anyway, juggling borrowed problems
If the questions line up asking for payments
I pay in Pryor punchlines and proposition paychecks
There’s a friend in my inbox asking for a lift
I reply “out of office,” send it hope on microfiche
The forecast says “unusual,” shit might get mellow
Bar-Kays on the turntable asking if I’m down for whatever
I pack a coat made of patience and some Jell-O
I don’t need a soapbox, just a patch of shag carpet
Where the echoes learn manners and the vibe stays honest
I practice saying “later” without meaning “never”
Let the ball bounce twice—still counting as clever

[Hook]
It’s a racket, it’s a rally, it’s a back-and-forth song
Ball bouncing off the margins like “you right—no, you wrong”
When the rec room’s sweating and the basement feels too long
I breathe, let it ricochet—wood-paneled, staying strong—ping… pong

[Outro]
If the night feels crowded, crack a window in your head
Fresh air’s just a rumor but it breathes when it’s said
We don’t need a winner, just a rhythm that’s strong
Keep the ball alive, fuck the score—ping… pong