Miserable Lives

I usually start the morning off readin' poetry on the net,
The hardcore, underground work not flowers and butterflies.
I tell ya, some of this stuff is so dang depressing that
I might as well cancel my morning, go back to bed, and
Then try for a decent day gettin' up mid-afternoon.

There're these pieces about how life is so ungodly miserable.
One dude's broke, no job, personal life nonexistent, woman left him.
Well shoot, broke, no job, and the floozie runnin' off was a surprise?
He's lucky she took her hateful, whiny-ass brats with her.
Poor man does miss his one-eared, three-legged wiener dog.

He says that he now looks for happiness and fulfillment
At the bottom of the bottle.
I get happy before I get halfway down there.
I guess proof of fulfillment would come later
With heaving at/in the porcelain throne.

The man surely needs my experience-based guidance.
To start, I'd tell him that it sounds like he's a nimrod.
Nimrod?  Did I say that?  I mean a pussy, a putz.
Lookie here, hombre, who the hell ever loved you anyway?
They say Jesus loves ya, but you may not be into men.
Besides, He loves everybody so don't feel so exclusive.

And stay away from that fuckin' dope.
That 'no hope without dope' line is crap.
You don't need no dope to be without hope.
That'll just mess up your head more, look at me.
What?  No, strike that last part.  I don't do dope.
I been told at times I ain't right, but that comes natural.

So, bozo, either figure out how to crawl outta
That hole you done crawled into
Or wait for the Reaper to come for ya.
No, goofy, I know what you're thinking
But 'klaatu barada nikto' won't work with him.




Warrior In Our Midst

Freddie J. is a soldier.  Infantry.
Jungle fighter.  Done the 'Nam.
That was years ago, but he
Insists on keeping up his
Soldierly skills.  He's the only
Guy I know who lies under
The bushes in his yard with
His rake aimed as a sniper rifle
Substitute zeroing in on those
Who wander into his kill zone.
He lies on his belly for hours,
His knife ready to take a scalp
Or slice off an enemy's ear.
A hardcore hardened survivor,
He's learned to live off the land.
Terrified neighbors wander over
To see if their cat is on his grill.
Could be, Freddie favors roadkill.
He has come to the conclusion
That the world can kiss his ass.
Anyone who doesn't like that
Can just kiss his ass twice.