Hang Low, Hang Tight

The Dive at Joes
Dimly lit and smelling of piss
I pull the stool to cushion the blow

Give it to me straight
Tell me tall tales
So I can see, as I tip my hat down

A place for the lost
The used ups and washed outs
Grit and stench, accepted

Pressing the filter between bitter lips
Lighting something other than life
Filtering days
Lost in smoke
Drowning in smooth
Tomorrow is doable

If this were sad, it'd be goodbye
If this were joy, it'd be hello
It just is, how's the wife and kids?

Injection

Needs for needles
And the self-sustaining peoples
Masses gathered under empty steeples

Thoughts from the thoughtless
And the self-serving process
Begging the fictitious for easy fixes

Trading hours for false powers
Ignoring the ignorance
Tit feeding from the slit throat
Bleeding

Your façade is breaking
With every deep breath they’re taking
Throwing the book back at you
Grabbing their lives
No longer faking

Losing the lost
And the self-shadowed cross
Emptied pews from the double-crossed

Facing the frowns
And the smiles with broken crowns
Only one way to go from down

Saving dollars for scholars
Collared, not followed
The free-formed thinkers, hollowed
Filling

Your palace is crumbling
With every step, they’re fumbling
Picking themselves up
Mapping their path
No longer humbling.

Performing Cunnilingus on a Succubus

Her body
Woven by Madams of Midnight
Come to take away your pain
Her mind
Lifted from a place of forgotten
madness
Luring you
To take unto her, the conscious
being that is your sight
So you can't tell when she is
robbing you blind

The Perception of a Sucker:

She speaks the sweetest words
With bitter, yet delicious intentions
Sugarcoated lips securing rough
textures, touchable on a
hallucinogenic high

The Perception a The Sucker:

She speaks the sweetest words
With devious, yet delicious
intentions
Sugarcoated lips securely fasten
once dormant chest pressure
Pressure building from yesterday's
catch
From yesterday's repetitive future

Her potential sits like an Indian,
cradling her greed and disgust for
progression
You can see she bore twins
But the father skipped town on a
3am train and now resides with worms

Her legs have been shaved to the
point of revealing muscle tissue
Dripping below her ankles to leave
a bare, red trail into tomorrow
A trail matching her lips

Whispering. . .

"You know where I'm going, but did
you see me coming?"

What's Good For You

Sleepless nights
and daytime plights
The times are killing

Progression lost
in the mental frost
The times are killing

Lonesome late's
with friendly escapes
The times are killing

Forgetful flees
and Disney sprees
The times are killing

Sit back and relax
The coffee's on me
Just help pay the tax
and forget the tea

The times are killing...

An ego inflated
Relations infected
By resenting the you's
and hating the me's

I told you to forget the fucking tea.

A View Askewed

Granted for taken, feeling
Jumbled is the tumble, when rumbled
Verses free from obscurity
And the Rorschach stains in my head

Figure this out
When self is still in
People still concentrate
on the pain they don't feel

Uncommon, is not the way
A bird shits on your head
The way is convenience
So, stand aside or alone

Thrifty, thy name is used
Used, thy name is new
New, with great marketing
Of a product long since trashed

Out is the wave of new
When shoes are worn
On the doormat of you're inn
I.O.U. an umbrella

You'll need it since you're not sleeping.

Prattled Discernment

Sue me, for I am the almighty quote
With quips to sooth the throat
Who am I to gloat?

That’s right.

I am the righteous word
Here to slay the absurd
Is this not the right heard?

Followers of the rotten Shepard
Faceless is the breed you are
Free to be obscure
Forgetting you were once the cure

Curing the once amiable
Spoon feeding the once unhealthy
Apathetic woes in the bright night
The Aloe to the Sun Burnt

Shunned for the new age.

The Dust

Frank had a bike
He rode it there
He rode it here
It was one big ride
The ride to anywhere

Frank met Gus
They drank here
They drank there
It was one big bender
They bended everywhere

Gus bet Frank
He could drink here
He could ride there
It was a sure thing
Till his brains were everywhere

Frank met God
He was there
He was here
He was The Big Guy
He was damn near... well, you know

Frank asked God:
"What the hell happened?"
God paused
The God spoke:
"Please Frank, call me Gus."

Dick.