grendel_kin

lost?

bored?

trying to avoid doing real work because you are intimidated by your own success?

then go read some bukowski and try to emulate his style, even though you lack the heart and the stomach for that much booze in the morning.

aaahhhhh, the wonders of procrastination!

____________________________________

In the spirit of bukowski

its the un-represented masses,
the individual loners calling for more
screaming up at those polished walls with
their drunken tongues
and their famished eyes.

They keep braying at me to help.
Stand up for a cause, mick.
Scream at the bastards. Scream with us, mick.
If there is enough of us shouting
well. Maybe, manyou know, maybe
stranger things
have happened. Shout with us.

Dont they know? I feel
fucking triumphant
when I can muster the strength
to wipe and get outside the
house. Thats tangible progress.
I have no fire in me
for shouting. I look at the bastards.
Look deeply at them from a porcelain
throne. One king to another.
Look, mother. Get off that ass and come look.
Theres the me with the fatter wallet.
That bastards my brother.
I have no fire in me for shouting.

You can keep your dispossessed.
I dont want them. Hollering banshees.
Screaming off walls and alleyways.
Shut the fuck up! there are people
sleeping. Youll scare away all
the young lovelies. Then whos the bastard
keeping me from
my prize? I have no fire in me for shouting.

Their hollowed agenda and
rickshaw fundraising turns my bowels.
Stand up for a cause, mick.
Scream at the bastards. Scream with us, mick.
If there is enough of us shouting
well. Maybe, manyou know, maybe
stranger things
have happened. Dont they fucking know?
I have no fire in me for shouting.

____________________________________


....what color do you think love is?