Commoner Clientele
The crowds call for another
and I
Cannot refuse
Ragtime and blues
are embedded
in one another.
Thank you for hearing my tunes,
I think I’m feeling much better.
The crowds call for another
and I
Cannot refuse
Ragtime and blues
are embedded
in one another.
Thank you for hearing my tunes,
I think I’m feeling much better.
It’s like a veil
That dizzes my vision.
Definitely dizzes.
All of us are beanstalks,
Skinny and straight up
Just to be tall.
I’ve addressed the insanity
With the vacation family
But still
A talk
Or whisper
Of evil does not
Banish the dreams
Or dismiss the thought.
I am afraid to fall asleep tonight.
So
Please please please
Wake me up before I
Give in to the vice
That devours the mind.
The nightmare’s alive.
I could run
Because I’m
wary
But what kind of life is that?
I know where The Road goes
Just not
Which one.
That would be my
Suicide.
That’s a strange funeral
with no body.
They won’t come together to mourn.
That’s fine.
If they did,
far too few
would care enough to show.
And I’d watch
myself
get buried
several miles below a blue moon.
…Mama used to sing ’til I broke her heart
And Daddy won’t come home from the graveyard.
We can make it a game
We can all be friends
Until envious eyes turn around again.
If the broken glass
Cuts your toes when you walk
I’m gonna patch you up and let you borrow my socks.
Because I love you a lot
And I can’t let you know
Until your feet aren’t bleeding
through this paper home.
The floorboards fold wherever we go.
Anarchy’s arm flexes with frailty
and the sheep,
the sheep are sheared in the heat
(in their seats!)
Stroll along the barcode,
murmur half-hearted hymns
I turn the lights off to set fires in the street
Keep your head held high
as you hide inside
You can pray for salvation but you’re still gonna die
we must beware the folly of pride.
The curse of terminal tunnel vision:
permanent
peripheral
indecision.