Shadows grew longer in the apartment, 4 p.m.
The second floor is devoid of the wars employed
To feed him.
I'm not speaking of the bloodshed, but we payed a
Much more than open signs, broken spines,
and lives lost.
No vitamins in the cobblestones or hollow roads
She followed home.
The beauty sat all alone writing poems no one knows.
If it all goes exactly as we planned my words in the dirty hands of those who can't understand.
It was perfect! A masterpiece! The irony had spited me.
I can see compliancy had no right to be inside of me.
And I believe variety will grow to be the highest tree,
Societies iron teeth won't let the giant free.
This is between me and everything that I've seen
That was a spitting image replica of church bells
When they ring.
The wind exists for the birds and air for the lungs.
I'll share the last smoke I got
With the corner-store bums.
This is Tuesday lobotomy and a doomsday prophecy
I'll take a pack of Red shorts and a couple of picks
On the Lottery.
This city has a bloodstream,
It's polluted and highly flammable.
Mechanical ventricles sputter
And the rubber atrium is a calloused hole.
We can't go back we're too far in the euphoria.
The wasteland's an oasis and the angels
Are the whores we know,
The horns they blow are warped from summer heat,
Harps with rusted strings,
We're gone, tangled up in a mess of drunken thieves.
It was enough for me to believe
In the pulse of flowing streams, the pollination of the bees,
And all the ships sailing east.
With a handshake and tip of my hat
I'd like to thank you
It was a tough trip here, but we made it so we're grateful.
It doesn't matter really because it's time to go to work.
With a purpose to fill our purses with the objects we have purchased.
In turn watch the joy of creativity become worthless
I'm certain that this person is the perfect gift of service.