chalk lines of bodies in the schoolyard
 
i feel like an old whore
 
out of luck
out of time
 
out of any useful thoughts
needed for what this world
has become
 
broken rainbows
 
chalk lines of bodies
in the schoolyard
 
the first hit is for the pain
 
next is the chase for the
elusive dream that brings
relief
 
the poor are more likely
to die from attrition
 
yet it is easier to swallow
that we're all junkies
 
wastes of flesh
 
the excuse for the rich
to get away with never
paying taxes
 
we'll go dancing under
the bridge near the
great river
 
with any bit of life left
 
we'll slip into the cold
water of tomorrow and
never be heard from
again
------------------------------------------------------------------
three or four days later
 
i remember dreams
when i was younger
and i always had a
woman by my side
 
some tantalizing muse
that would whisper the
most evil shit in my ear
to make me laugh
 
and we would write
and paint and drink
until the sun came up
three or four days later
 
and every time i thought
i found that dream woman
something always got in
the way
 
be it life
 
be it my fragile ego
 
be it the inability to
ever be good enough
for something other
than my hand
 
the nights i drink myself
to sleep increase with
every passing year
 
eventually,
 
the clock will
run out