The people in the basement…

Standard
The people in the basement…

Here is an OLD one!

See, in my own way I was always going to be a social worker. Look at that natural social justice insight! *oy vei*

There’s an imaginary dog downstairs,

I hear it barking.

A psycho has fantasies about me,

and thinks that they’re real.

I met a child yesterday,

she had one this morning.

Just a few pieces of paper,

what’s the damn deal?

A flying or ground attack,

trample and rampage of one.

Electromagnetic motor,

fucking up my reception.

Vegetarian vampires whisper,

“I’ve fast for too long…”

Tossing memories without sequence,

back when we were spun.

I heard her cry again,

this afternoon around two;

Swearing to leave

“You rapist bastard!”

A flower grew, bloomed, and died,

all in three weeks.

There was a kitten lost,

somewhere around Jefferson and 3rd.

A pill I call Alice

and her friend Maryjane.

The guy in my dreams,

versus my own mind’s eye.

I lined them all up,

they still fought over who gets first.

Didn’t they say it’d be fair?

I must have already been high.

I hear her calling him,

back home again.

Kathy needed a friend,

so I called her a slut.

It’s always purple here,

spring, summer, and fall.

What the hell?

I hate that fucking mutt.

© 7/6/1996

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s