Sitting in and on familiar surfaces
Sidewalks & bars - pissed and puke stained
I want to be a poet when I grow up
I want my past to stalk me every conscious moment
I want to view my life on the big screen that sometimes
Devours my eyes
I want to remember the shit of my early years in such vivid detail
That it almost stops my breathing
I want to walk the streets with silver spoons the
Size of refridgerators hanging over my head
Shoot flames out of my brain
And smile as it cooks my self medicated future
I want to press pipes the size of my granddaddy's
Dick up to my lips . . . . and Suck . . . .Bitch, Swallow
Something that tastes like burnt metal . . . old guy's cum
I want to be a poet
So that I can walk streets and think that I can't talk to anyone
My best friend, overpriced white paper bound by hard black covers
Yea, that sounds good fucker!
Charmed life asshole!
I stand at the bar, shoes way too tight!
And I say to her with a rooted-tooth smile
You want to be a poet? . . . . . . . . . With those pretty teeth?
She sez you havin a bad day??
Oh no . . . . .no . . . . . no -
Really
I'm havin a good day
I'm not kidding --------------
I'm happy.