The Cost of Being Good Company

You sold the lie you bought the lie doesn’t really matter the lie is still the lie

Why we dance, to the song, or to the bullet

Aces & Eights, we do the hokey pokey, that’s what it’s all about

The game of fates, of soul’s lost-lost souls

paying the ultimate cost

Bored with the plants and the bees and the truely finer things

Driven to their greater, that they call the stars, life on Mars, mason jars

I had a once upon a time

At the very birth of the days of rhyme, and reason

And its nature, they are of season

Like the figure 8 times 9, like chimes

Me for you, and you for me, and all one big happy family

Should I catch a shooting star?  Should I bring it where you are?  I will.

The cost of being good company,

a dying pathetic cacophony of never could’s and never wills

I don’t like when they feel sorry for me

They just don’t see, it’s Persephone calling, and she needs my company

Don’t worry, I know her well

her cries and colors don’t scare me anymore

I know her toll strikes loud and hard

Her bite stings and her rhythm so slow

an excruciatingly low tempo

But, I dry her tears and she dries mine

and when the tears turn to sobs, she does not turn away

She is not afraid

There’s but one beam, or thread, how to say

The mind-buoyed

I know to trust, to bring me back up, someday

How do I know

It’s her colors, her subtle deep dark tones that tell me so

The dark gentle giant of the undertow

 

Celebrating Labor Day Poem

It’s Not Worth It

That job you do, all day, all week, all year

To pay a tax, buy a thing,

maybe a new car, or another diamond ring

It’s not worth it

But in this world we must pay to be alive

I know

To pay the rent, the food, the gas

But did you ever stop

And step off

And wonder . . . when did that start?

And why?

Have we always paid to be alive?

Who do the forest-dwelling natives of New Guinea pay?

What is their currency?

Our current sea

floating $$$ drowning debt

awash in toys and trucks

Hobby Lobby Walmart Disney

amusing ourselves . . .

. . . the Chinese love us . . .

to death

Hit the bottle, the pill, the porn

Retail therapy

Stress sells!

Hot off the presses new drug, new game, old tricks

Step right up

Shrink your head

Obamacare will pay

Promise you’ll be having fun again in no time

Circus coming to town

Celebrate!

Rinse, repeat

Back to school

ring around the rosy

Now sit still, now jump to the bell, now skip to my Lou

Simon says!

 

flight schedule screen turned on
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