a drop in the bucket

dammit it’s that time already

chatter, brain scatter
conversations with the mad hatter
sitting in this chair for weeks
waiting to welcome a heartless dawn
7am debut, a 12 hour coup, then
at 7pm there’s not much left to do
but drink and screw
avoiding things through and through
torn, and too bored to quit
while others are too tired to care
beamed up, it’s the polar opposites
that confound the senses
and in those days
he remembered how
there was no original thought
and so little emotion
lines blank and grown deeper
these hands don’t seem giant anymore
and they shake all too often

pause, fast forward, or maybe rewind
driving straight into the sun
both ways,safety pin clipped
with an unmarked name tag
and wanting more
too much luck and
not enough mystery, we are
bent to roam
the inner-space
searching for a home
poker-face
as the alley cats
keep scratching at the post

next up, a dream
following a pretty redhead
we stumbled upon a
patch of magic mushrooms
hidden among the cow shit
baby biddies
it was
the key to the freak show
she said
a much needed release
something different
in the face of all this obscurity
no question we’ve all become androids
drunk, addicted, and unaware
a generation of exceptional idiots
cowering in the shadow of mediocrity

and among them was this guy
average, with too many rough edges
a bad lover
a bad writer
a prisoner of desire
with too many women
and half finished sentences
dishonest and explicit
in one ravenous heartbeat
you see, it’s always these dogged men
and desperate women
who make jokes and cling
with slippery fingers
to the falsehoods of middle age

too quick or too late?
frustration and the great debate
they say cancer is imminent
waiting to desecrate
shifted like a bad clutch
i just can’t get this right
to preach, to pray
there’s no fail-safe today

so now it’s
time for the news
time for the blues
hallucinogenic views
of this new world order

 

 

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